Not Another Teen Story
by Mina Lisly
Summary: One Clary, two Jonathan, a summer holiday. What will happen? Lemons and lemons!
1. The Other Jonathan

"It's about fucking time."

I turn my head to see two blond heads instead of one and I face palm myself. How could I have forgotten about _that_? I mean, it's all Mister M. had been talking about for the past few weeks: the arrival of his foster son. I don't really know the whys and the how's, all I know is that now Jon has a brother. Goodbye to fun and hello to awkwardness.

Speaking of awkward, I should probably wrap myself in a towel. I had been waiting for Jon near his swimming pool in a very, _very_ short bikini. And now Jon is smirking at me and at my indecent clothing while his new brother is staring at me. When I said this was going to be awkward. The jerk doesn't even have the decency to look away.

I get up with as much dignity as I can muster (given my lack of clothing) and walk to Jon so I can punch him in the shoulder. You see, Jon is my everything. _No_, he's not my boyfriend. He's my best friend... with benefits. Sometimes. Many times, actually. But it's not my fault if he's fucking hot, and even fucking better in bed. Because his tongue, let's just not start talking about his tongue. I'm sure his tongue isn't allowed to go in countries, such as Saudi. I mean, just thinking about it makes me all flustered.

So back to Jon himself; he's hot, that much I've already said. He has those blue icy eyes that make you think of the purest water of them all. And his hair is silky, thick and pale blond. Even freaking Rapunzel would be jealous of his hair. He's really buffed, like those actors in the movies that make you all wet, except Jon I can actually touch. And his smile, _his smile_, is the sweetest of them all. It promises endless laughter and tons of fun. Well Jon, he is out of a fairy tale; a Swiss fairy tale or something. I'm sure he's related to Heidi or something. I can so easily picture him a straw between his teeth, cutting wood to bring in his cabin before peeling out of his clothes to make brutal and bestial love to his wife (and using a lot of tongue).

Jon and I became best friend the day I bit him when I was 13. I had known him for hardly twenty minutes, and I already bit him. I know, I'm weird, but who cares. It was a serious matter. He was plucking my cherries! I was in my tree, alone and minding my own business, when that prick of a new neighbor came to pick on _my cherries_! Well, I bit his hand off. He learned his lesson because he never even dared looking at a cherry when I was near him after that. He's a good lad.

Jon is a year older than me, meaning he's 18 and this year will be his last year of high school. I am _so_ not in a hurry for summer to be over. I want to enjoy all my time with him as long as possible. As soon as we have to go back to school, I'll have to share him again with all of our friends. Now I have to share him with that new brother, or whatever, he has. Life is unfair!

His brother is also hot. Like, _really_ hot. He is a different kind of hot. Jon makes me think of the mountain, the snow, the sky. His brother makes me think of the beach, the sand, the sun. Literally, the _sun_. He is freaking gold. He has golden hair, golden skin, golden eyes. And people say _I_ am the freak! _I_ do not look like an alien coming from the star Sun! He is the same height as Jon, maybe slightly smaller, and he seems just as buffed. My eyes drift down his body, imagining what is hidden beneath his clothes and finally I land on what I was seeking.

Call me a freak, but guy's hands turn me on; especially their fingers. Because we all know what they can do with those. Yeah, I once had a harpist boyfriend, and let me tell you we didn't break up because of the sex. Just because of his fingers, our foreplay could last for hours. Yeah you heard me, _hours_. And the Golden brother has really long fingers that seem incredibly strong. I smirk, unable to hold it back, because yeah... long and strong fingers, you know what that means.

"_Clarissa_, my, my. What indecent clothing you are wearing."

"What can I say _Jonathan_? Just the thought of you made me lose my clothes."

Jon laughs and takes me in his arms, swinging his arm over my shoulder. I quickly grab my towel, finally making myself a nice girl by wrapping it around my chest. Jon gives me a disappointed look and I stick my tongue to him. I'm childish. Sue me.

"Clary, meet Jonathan. Jonathan meet the Devil."

"Thank you Jon! How am I supposed to innocently steal his soul, if he already knows who I am!?"

Jon laughs before messing with my hair. He knows I hate it when he does that, so I elbow him in the stomach. Then I realize what he just said. They share the same freaking name! Talk about confusing. How will they know who I'm addressing? I stick my hand out of the new arrival and he takes it, his eyes glued to my towel. I smirk at that, already picturing myself having a lot of fun messing with that golden head of his.

"I can drop the towel if you want."

"You could, I wouldn't mind."

"Yeah, well I would. Dad is inside, Clary."

I grimace before making a face to Jon and stride in the house as if it was my own. I mean, it practically is. My Mom is rarely home, traveling all over the world with her new husband. Don't get me wrong, I love my Mom, and I love her new husband just the same. Luke. He's so freaking nice, it was scary at first. Especially when you know that he is a rock star who sells CDs as if they are candies. At first Mom stayed home with me, but I told her to just live her life as a woman, and not just as a Mom. It was approximatively at the same time as the Morgenstern's moved next door.

And since that time, I've spent 90% of my time in this house. Mister M is like a very friendly uncle to me. I won't say father because he's too nice to be my father. I'm sure he knows all about his son and I shagging up, but he never said anything. On the contrary, Jon said that now there are always condoms in the top drawer of his bathroom.

So of course when I see Mister M. in the living room raising an eyebrow at the towel wrapped around me I don't feel even slightly embarrassed.

"Clary? Wasn't the pool warm enough for you?"

"No, I just forgot about... _Jonathan number two_. I'll leave you guys alone, or at least dress in something more appropriate. You know if I ever need to kick Jonathan number 1, I want to do it with style."

"Okay. We'll see you at dinner then?"

"That's a date. See you later, Mister M."

I get back to my house and growl in frustration. If I went to Jon's it was mainly because I was horny, like the teenage girl that I am who has her hormones on fire. Why else would I have worn that small bikini? My definition of sexy is oversized band shirts with shorts and that's it. It's not like I need to dress sexy for Jon. He knows when I'm horny, and how to 'cool' me down.

I drop my towel somewhere in the living room before blasting some full volume AC/DC music. _Hells Bells_ echoes in the house as I go upstairs to put some clothes on before slumping in my bed, my head up and down. I pick up my book and start to read when I receive a text.

**Why are you not back yet? J**

**I find the company of my book more entertaining. C**

**Want me to come over? J**

**No. Enjoy your new bro. C**

**I'll come tonight. Just to make sure you don't invite boys over when your Mom isn't here. ;-) J**

I chuckle and can't help but grin. I'll get what I wanted after all. I resume reading my book. I've read this book a hundred thousand zillion times: The Lord of the Ring. It's one of the only things I have left of my Dad. My real Dad, that is. He died when I was eight, killed by a notorious serial killer: cancer.

Cancer is a bitch because despite making your loved ones suffer, sometimes it comes without a warning and without any reason. My Dad died from lung cancer, after having a healthy lifestyle. He never smoked, he ran every morning, had a healthy diet and was very careful in everything he did or ate. Still, that bitch Cancer stroked him and killed him at a lightning speed. When I tell you cancer is a bitch, I mean it. But I made peace with it now. I still cry sometimes when I think of Dad, but I can talk about him, and I keep on living.

When dinner time arises, I go to the Morgenstern's to eat. As usual, I sit next to Jon so that I can tease him if he annoys me. I know he will, because it's always what he does. Jonathan number two sits in front of us as Mister M. sits at the head of the table. Mister M. starts making small talk, and Jonathan number two politely answers. _Jonathan number two_... that is going to annoy me soon.

"Do you have a second name?"

He looks at me as if he is surprised that I talked to him. I think back of what was happening. There was nothing in the conversation that led to me asking this question, just the random thoughts in my mind. But of course, what does he know? It's not like he's gotten used to that, like Jon or Mister M.

"I randomly speak out of nowhere. Get used to it. So, do you have a second name?" I repeat.

"Christopher."

"Yeah Chris doesn't fit either. Because then I automatically think of Chris Evans. Maybe JC... Nah, you'll get a big head and think you're the new Messiah... Jace?"

Jace, because now I'll call him that whether he likes it or not. There's no way in Hell I'll go the rest of my life saying Jon number 1 and Jon number 2. So, Jace looks at me with big goggling eyes, not following my rumbling and I roll my eyes as Jon explodes with laughter.

"She just gave you a nickname. Don't even try to follow her, just nod and you'll be fine."

Jace nods before smirking at me, and I see in his eyes this little spark that makes me decided whether a person will be my friend or not: challenge. I smirk back and immediately feel someone touching my leg. At first I think it's Jon, but then I realize that from where he's sitting, it cannot be.

"So if I get a nickname, you'll need one as well. How about Red?"

Of course he would pick on my hair. Seriously? Where is the challenge I saw earlier? I'm sure he can come up with something better, especially since he's shamelessly rubbing my leg with his foot. I seriously don't get people who get turned on by that. There's absolutely nothing glamour or sexy in that, _at all._

"Can't you get more creative? Come on, I've had that nickname in school since kindergarten."

"How about Little Elf then?"

"You do that, and I'll turn you into a girl," I threaten.

He raises an eyebrow at my sudden aggression but the scowl on my face doesn't leave. It used to be the nickname my father gave me. You see, my father was really into Celtic mythology. He even made his job out of it, becoming a college professor on the subject. He could have inherited his family business, but he preferred talking about imps and elves that exist only in our imagination. I didn't mind because that meant having the best bedtime stories ever.

"Then I'll call you _Pixie_."

"Okay then. _Jace_."

At that moment, my phone vibrates, and I discretely check the screen under the table as Jon already makes a joke about my new nickname.

**We need to talk ASAP.**

** .**

**~.o.O.o.~**

**.**

**So? Who sent that text? And yeah, what did you think of this first chapter. Well, tell me all your impressions and expectations. **

**Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments franchise, and thank you for my beta, IWriteNaked for correcting my mistakes and making the story more fluent for you guys. And yeah, go check her stories as in NOW!**

**Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang**


	2. Shall I Bring Chaos?

I lay on the bed, hands behind my neck and I stare at the ceiling while thinking back on my day. On what a shitty day it was. Don't get me wrong, Valentine is nice and all, but nice is not what I need right now. I need fire, I need someone to morally beat me down so I can finally let go of all these stupid emotions crawling inside of me.

I swear I'd rather be feeling bad than feeling _that_. Then again, who wouldn't? Somehow, I envy Jonathan. He's free of everything; he just lives his life as it comes without questioning it. He's still what I call 'innocent'. Just like Pixie. They're two fucking innocent souls happy to live their little insignificant lives.

Speaking of Jonathan and Pixie… Like Hell, they're not together. He can deny it all he wants, but their bodies say much more than their words. The way they talk to each other, the way they touch each other, the way they look at each other, it's like they're in symbiosis or something. Yeah, it's fucking ridiculous. It's the most cliché situation ever. He loves her, she loves him, and they hide behind this ' best-friends with benefits' label. I'm telling you, it's ridiculous.

And the worst part is that I am so fucking willing to shatter this perfect little bubble in which they live, because that would mean chaos around me and chaos is where I dwell. Chaos is the only thing I know, the only thing that makes me feel at home. I need it to survive. Dysfunctional much? Well, I guess that's what you get when you come from where I do.

Now, I just have to find a way to sneak into their love-life to destroy it from the inside out. And then, I'll watch them implode. _Then_ I'll feel alive again; for only a few seconds, but it'll be worth it. It's not like it will be hard to do. The way she looked at me with her big green eyes when I started rubbing my foot against her leg at dinner, or the way she checked me out... All I can say is that it's more fragile than a matchstick. I can snap it easily. Too easily, maybe.

Suddenly I hear a noise coming from the corridor, and so I go peek through the keyhole only to see Jonathan sneaking out of his room. I roll my eyes. Like I said: as easy to break as a match. I mean the girl left in a hurry, we weren't even though desert. I'm sure he's the one madly in love, and she's the one who's blind as a bat. So, of course he's the one who stays faithful in their little _arrangement_ and she's the one who feels as free as a bird.

I go back to my bed, feeling that I gave way too much thought to their 'love life' and I try to go to sleep. But of course I can't. I'm not tired physically or mentally and I'm actually dreading sleep because I know what waits in my dreams. I hesitate a moment, thinking on what I could do to exhaust me enough to sleep.

I could go out for a run, like I did for the past couple of months. However, I don't know this area and I don't want to get lost in the middle of the night and have to call Valentine to rescue me. I could do pushups or I could watch porn… Yeah, porn seems like a better idea. Even better, I could picture what I would have done if I had walked in on Pixie all alone... No, actually pushups seem better. I don't want to end up disappointed the day I actually do bang her (disappointment always leads to frustration, and frustration to blue balls).

So I settle for pushups and hop on the floor in position. I wish I knew the area because I would rather run, but I'm stuck on the fucking floor, doing fucking pushups and trying damn hard to forget everything that led me to this fucking floor. _Forget_, I wish I could just forget. I wish I could just drown in oblivion and stay there until the end of my days.

Oblivion looks like such a freaking awesome place. Oblivion is where darkness and nothingness will swallow your soul and your heart in the blink of an eye, to leave you as nothing more than an empty shell of what you once were. Emptiness will still be better that this _thing_ I'm feeling right now.

Once I know that sleep will hit me as soon as my head finds a pillow, I slump in the bed, and I let slumber swallow me in a dreamless sleep.

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

.

When I wake up the next morning, I go take a shower, staying under the warm water as long as possible. I don't want to go downstairs and socialize; yesterday night was already too much for me. I know that Valentine won't force me into anything, but just seeing his nice and friendly face annoys me. I mean, there's a limit to how nice you can be without being irritating.

When I got into this fucking stupid and annoying situation, all the adults around me wanted me to talk to them. They were all hovering over me and telling me to let it go. I was so happy with that because I could keep on hating them while they were trying to calm me down. When came to the question of who was going to take care of me, everyone just fled away. I mean, who wants a teenager with such a shady life?

Valentine was the one who stepped up for me. The guy I saw maybe five times in my whole life. The guy said he would take me in and provide for me. _Who does that_? We're not even related! We're not even close! He wasn't even close to either of my parent; just some business associate of my father, and the guy still took me in. As if that wasn't nice enough, he let me be.

The few times we met, he never asked me what happened or how I was feeling. He just stayed silent and told me that I'd have to share the car with his son when we go back to school. Who does that? Talking about mundane things when you have a nut case like me next to you?

When I cannot decently use any more water without causing a massive damage to the planet, I finally and reluctantly go downstairs, only to find Valentine baking banana pancakes. What time is it? 9:04. Isn't he supposed to work or something? It's freaking Friday! Decent people are already at work at this time and if Valentine is anything, it's decent.

I glance around, but it seems to be just the two of us, and a _mountain of pancakes_! Seriously, I know he has two teenage boys under his roof, but we're not Gargantua. I sit, not even bothering to be polite and greet him hello, and at this moment I hear a door banging open. Jonathan appears in the kitchen before slumping in the seat just in front of me.

Valentine turns from his stove and quirks an eyebrow up. He stays silent a moment, as if he is waiting for something or someone, and then he looks back at his pan, making the penultimate pancake. _Finally_, if he had made one more, it would have turned in an orgy of food.

"Where's Clary?"

"If you know, you tell me. She's not answering her fucking phone."

Ooh, trouble in Paradise? Did she leave him hanging all night long or did she disappear in the morning? I smirk at this spark of chaos as Jonathan takes a pancake and moodily drowns it under the maple syrup. Look who's angry now? So much for 'She's just my friend'.

"That's really bad. I made the pancakes for her."

Valentine sits between Jonathan and I as I comprehend what he just said. He made the freaking Himalaya of pancakes because he thought Pixie was coming? Isn't she supposed to be a girl? Isn't she supposed to pretend that she never eats and farts rainbows? And what's up with the amount of pancakes? She's a Pixie, not freaking Fiona! She's small and delicate, not a freaking ogress.

"Jace? Are you hot for a party tonight? You know, to get to know people around and stuff?"

I don't look away from my plate and just keep on playing with my food as I indifferently nod. I mean, a party should be good. There'll be girls, meaning I'll get laid. It's been 10 fucking days since I got laid. And the last one was a freaking weirdo. Never again am I banging a girl who reads about sparkling vampires! The girl wanted me to fucking wear fangs and bite her. _Psycho_!

"Well Dad, we need the house tonight."

"You know the rules."

I glance at Valentine as he nods and I hide my surprise. What kind of father just gently agrees to get kicked out of his own house? Especially when he knows that his teenage son wants to throw a ragging party where girls and alcohol will most definitely be involved?

"Yeah, yeah. Clary is to be here. The house is to be clean and empty by 10am. No one is to get pregnant or in an alcohol-induced coma. No one takes a car with alcohol in their blood. And whatever is broken, I repay and I have a week of chores at Dorethea's."

Valentine makes a small noise of approval in the back of his throat, and then he resumes eating his pancakes. I see that he quickly glances at my plate, as if he's checking that I'm eating something, and so I quickly shove the fork in my mouth. Wouldn't want him to think I have eating disorders.

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

.

I have to admit, Jonathan is nicer than I thought. He's a bit like his father. He never asked me once why I ended up in his house, and I know Valentine didn't rat me out. When I first saw Jonathan, I thought he was just a spoiled brat, but the more time I spend with him, the more I come to the conclusion that he's just cool. At some point within the day, he proposed a video game, and so we spent the afternoon geeking around.

On several occasions, I see him texting anxiously to someone (probably Pixie) but she doesn't seem that eager to answer. She only shows up an hour before the party and as soon as she arrives, Jon drags her into his room. I don't know what happens in there, but I hear some yelling, and then she irrupts out from the room, as red as her hair. Well, one thing is for sure, I don't need to go to the movies. It's right here in front of me.

I'm smirking as Pixie is passing by me, but before I know it, she grabs my hand and drags me to Jonathan's room. Who knew little Pixie had any sort of strength? When she releases my arm, I lean against the doorframe, trying to look bored.

"Jace, can you explain to that _moron_ over there that just because we are best friends does not mean I have to tell him everything."

I raise an eyebrow at her. Did she really drag me here because she cannot see that her idiot of a 'best-friend' is in love with her? Are girls really _that_ stupid? I glance at Jonathan and see that he's expecting some male support. Well, I can't be a douche all the time.

"She's on her periods, dude."

_Oh my God_, I think I'll die from internal laughing. The face she's making! It's just plainly hilarious. Her eyes are wide open and her mouth is agape, forming an 'o' of indignation. Man, making fun of her is even funnier than I ever expected.

"You did not just say that!"

"I did. Why? Are you just cranky like that all the time?"

Her eyes widen even more, if that's possible, and then her face is suddenly unreadable. For a split second, I'm slightly frightened. I mean, it's always better to know what your enemy is thinking, and right now I have no fucking idea of what is going through her mind.

"I see. Two guys, you're always going to have each other's back. Bros before hoes. _Fine_."

And then she sticks her chin up and leaves with dignity. My eyes follow her as she walks into the bathroom and closes the door. I roll my eyes at this mellow-drama and look back at Jonathan who was narrowing his eyes at the wall his bedroom was sharing with the bathroom. Then he looks back at me, and I spot in his blue eyes something I hate: pity.

"Thanks. But you should have sided with her. Clary's vengeances are pretty ugly when you're the victim."

"In that case, you should tell her how you feel."

Jonathan chuckles all the while shaking his head as if _I_ was delusional. Then he starts walking out of his room, his smirk still on. How can he be in so much denial?

"Like I said, there's nothing between Clary and I beside sex."

"Sure. Whatever."

I will certainly not be the one who goes out of their way to make them admit their feelings. If anything, it will be the contrary. We both go downstairs and Jonathan opens three beers setting one aside for Pixie when she'd get downstairs.

People start coming in, and when the party starts becoming heated, we're not that many. As Jonathan said, it's still summer holiday and many of their friends are out of town enjoying their lazy asses in some stupid dream place. That doesn't go to my advantage. There are only three girls:Pixie, a girl who came with her brother, and a girl who screams 'walking STD'.

The girl with a brother is hot; _really hot_, but she's apparently taken. Not that it's really a problem, but her brother is here, and if her boyfriend is to arrive later, let's just say that as much as I'd love to get in a fight, I like my face as it is. Pixie on the other hand, she's all over the brother. They keep on talking very softly to one another in hurried and hushed whispers. This doesn't seem to go to Jonathan's liking.

At some point, a guy with shady eyes proposes a truth or dare, and I roll my eyes. This is the stupidest game ever. Just an excuse to drink and do pervert things. Everyone sits in the living room, and I end up on a chair. Pixie is sitting just in front of me, between Jonathan some guy with blue hair. She deviously smiles at me before leaning to whisper something in Jonathan's ear.

Jonathan burst out in laughter before the STD Girl starts the game by questioning him. I should really try to bother and learn people's names. Just to make sure I am understood if I have to talk about them. Jonathan picks the dare and everyone snickers. Apparently he never picks truth, except for Pixie. Surely she must know which questions to ask and which not to ask.

"How about you go outside and yell your lungs out 'I'm a big fat turkey'..."

Seriously? How old are they? Twelve? Jonathan is already up with a big smirk on his face.

"_Naked_."

Jonathan starts grinning before looking at Pixie. She makes a disappointed face as he starts taking of his shirt. _Wow_, dude, we don't need a striptease! Just get undressed in the kitchen or something and not in front of us! Pixie picks his shirt as he throws it, grumbling something about paying him tomorrow and he heads outside the living room. _Finally_.

Of course, the girls follow him in, except for Pixie who looks at her nails as if she couldn't be more bored. The guy with black hair comes next to her and glances at the door as we hear some screams. Ironically, we hear more screams coming from the two girls than the words that Jonathan is supposed to shout.

"You're not going to appreciate the view, Clary?"

"_Please_, I'm his neighbor. The guy _lives_ to be naked. I've already seen everything that's worth being seen. And trust me, it's not a lot."

We all start snickering, because we're dudes and we tend to be immature when it comes to making fun of other guys junk. The girls come back in the room, a stupid grin on their faces as if they had just seen the hidden treasure of Long John Silver. The taken girl turns to Pixie, her eyes wide with wonder. It's like they've never seen a naked man before or something.

"Clary, why are you always insinuating that he's inexistent?"

"Because he is."

"Ask her what's normal, Iz. And you'll see how _abnormal_ that girl is."

Jonathan is walking back to the room with his clothing back on, just asking for his shirt from Pixie. She gives it to him as he sits next to her. She grins at him before putting an indecent space between her fingers. Come on, the whole wide word could fit between the space of her fingers! Jonathan laughs and she bursts next to him, both holding their sides. I look around, and I see that I'm not the only one lost here.

Jonathan sits back properly before smirking for some unknown reasons. He resumes the game, and within the next hour, I learn that the STD girl (Kaelie, I think) has no singing abilities, Iz (that name, I'm sure of) is actually still single, but pining over some guy called Simon, Alec (the black haired guy who was talking to Pixie most of the night) is the person she was with last night (Jonathan really dug his way to find that out), Shifty Eyes (Sebastian, if I'm not mistaken) is the person with the most broken bones on the planet.

At some point, I stop paying attention to the game, answering automatically dare when it's my turn. It's not like I can't lie, it's just that I don't want to even bother. As the night goes on, people get more and more drunk, but who am I to judge? I do the same. I can feel that from times to times Jonathan and Pixie are looking at me, as if they were plotting something against me, and I finally know what it's all about when Jonathan dares Pixie (because she never picks truth either, not even for her bestie).

"You will have to give a lap dance to... _Jace_."

Pixie tilts her head to the side and smirks at me. I know that she's challenging me to refuse. I'm practically sure that she's the one who had this idea. I could put my hand to the test. I don't say a single thing as she gets up and stretches her body. I'll give her that, she's flexible.

"Do you know the rule of lap dances?"

Who does she think I am? I never stepped a single toe in a strip-club, so how should I know? Even better, how does _she_ know lap dances have rules? Her smirk grows even wider as she looks at me, grabbing her foot from behind and making a square angle with her body.

"You do not touch the dancer."

Jonathan puts a CD on, and Ciara's _Ride_ starts playing, making Pixie devilish smile reach her ears. At first she closes her eyes, as if she is testing the beat, and suddenly she starts bouncing and swaying toward me to the rhythm of the music. Let me tell you, little Pixie over here knows how to move her body.

She opens her eyes as she starts to grind on me, her green orbs steady on me, and that's when I feel myself twitch. I mean, can you blame me? The girl is only wearing shorts and a tank top. Letting all of that skin delicately rub me as she moves all over me. Ciara keeps on saying how 'he loves the way she rides it'. Well, I'd like to know how Pixie would ride _me_ right now.

And fucking fuck! I'm fucking hard, and she keeps on teasing me. We're not even halfway through the damn song. Her eyes never leave mines, and I have to plant my nails deep in my palms to keep an unaffected face in front of her. _Fuck_! I wasn't expecting that, as in not at all. She moves as if the music possessed her. The way her whole body moves, it's like she doesn't have bones.

And now her ass is on my crotch, and she obviously feels how much she turned me on. I hate that fucking rule. Who made up that rule? What's the point of a lap dance then? Getting blue balls? I fucking _hate_ that rule. From time to time, her tank top lifts up, and all I want to do is caress the skin of her stomach. Feel if it's as smooth as it looks.

Finally it's the rap part of the song, meaning she won't squirm all over me. But what she does is far worse. She's on top of me, facing me but not quite sitting on me, and she still sways to the beat. Slowly her hands trail down from my chest to my belt to undo it. I know she knows. She knows how hard I am right now. She knows that I'm on the edge to fuck her right here, right now. That's why she's freaking smirking at me. She leans in, and her boobs are on my chest while she blows on my ear.

"Too bad I'm on my so-called period."

Then she swiftly gets off of me, hanging my belt around my neck and she goes back to her seat next to Jonathan. He looks at me, silently saying 'told you not to mess with her' and I take the belt off my neck. I can't tell if I'm relieved or disappointed that the song is over. I just try to remind myself that the room is filled with guys and I narrow my eyes at the little Devil as she throws me a cushion. I still keep it though to cover little me. Just because everyone assumes I have a hard on doesn't mean everyone needs to know about it.

Pixie innocently smiles at me as she dares someone else, and I know that she'll regret this little stunt sooner than she expects.

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**~.o.O.o.~**

.

**Well, here was chapter two. I hope you liked it. Don't forget to leave your thoughts on it, and what you think Jace will do to Clary as a payback? And what do you think of Jon? And Jace? And Clary?**

****Oh, and I wrote this 'song' about TMI, so,yeah, I'd love it if you checked it out and let me your impressions.****

**Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments franchise, and thank you for my beta, IWriteNaked for correcting my mistakes and making the story more fluent for you guys. And yeah, go check her stories as in NOW!**

**Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang**


	3. Bring It On!

I wake up with a massive hangover. My head is pounding as if Jumanji is in it. I sigh and throw my hand on the side, hoping to hit Jon's face to wake him up. Yeah, I'm kind of mean when I'm hangover. And it actually comes back to bite me in the ass because I fall on the floor. So now, in addition of freaking Jumanji partying in my head, my body feels like it's been run over by a truck. Life really sucks right now.

I painfully get up, realizing that I'm on the floor in the living room. _What the Hell_? Why am I not in Jon's bed like every time I spend a night here? Oh right, I was too wasted to move last night. If I recall properly, so was Jon. I glance around, only to see him curled up under the window, a dick drawn on his cheek. Yeah, yeah, I should stop being so childish, but... It was too tempting. I hope he doesn't see it before someone else does. That would be funny.

I look at the time and open wide saucers when I see that it's already 8:30. What the Hell? Why didn't the alarm go off? I grab a pillow and throw it at Jon (I'm not the best person to wake you up) and then I rush to the kitchen to make my magical drink. The hangover-remover.

Jon comes behind me and hides his face in the crook of my neck as I pour baking powder and lime into sparkling water. I mix it all and down my drink before making one for Jon, already feeling the magic working. What can I say? I'm a genius? Nah, my stepfather is a rock star. He knows all about hangovers and how to get rid of them.

Jon takes the drink, not leaving my waist and repositions himself in his previous posture as soon as he finishes his drink. We stay like that for a while before he holds me a little bit tighter, his lips brushing my neck.

"We got really plastered yesterday night, didn't we?"

"Tell me about it. Too bad, I was looking forward to catching up on what we never got time to do the night before."

At that, Jon straightens up and scowls at me. Apparently, he still doesn't want to forgive me for not telling him where I was. I mean it's not like it's that big of a deal. I was at Alec's, Izzy's brother. I don't actually know Izzy that well because me and girls... We don't get along. Mostly because they all think that I'm going to steal their boyfriend because I only hang out with boys.

So back to Alec: he's my friend and he needed me, so of course I went. I just wasn't expecting what he asked of me or for him to burst in tears when he realized that kissing me didn't make him feel anything. It's not like I went prude and chaste on him. I mean, I know I'm no Monica Bellucci, but still, I have curves and I know how to arouse a man. Well, at least a straight one.

I spent all my night comforting Alec and telling him that it's okay to be gay. I told him about my one time with a girl and then I tried all those stupid cliché sentences. To be true, I just wanted him to stop crying because I can't handle tears. They freaking scare me.

When I finally managed to make Alec smile, promising him that I'd be by his side and I'd protect his secret, I went back to Jon. I know that being unable to locate me must have brought back bad memories for him, but I couldn't really tell him where I was. He's my best friend, and I trust him with my life, but _that_, it's not my secret to share, even with Jon.

Jon says that he'll clean upstairs, so I do downstairs. It's a system we have. Instead of staying in the same room and ending up talking more than cleaning we split the house in half, and once out of two, he does downstairs, then at the next party, we switch. I blast the radio on the rock station and start to wash the dishes after having finished returning the living room to its primal state.

Oh _shit_, they're playing _my_ song! _Literally_ my song. Luke found the lyrics on my desk a couple of months ago and said that it fit perfectly for this new album they were working on. I didn't really care back then and just gave him a bunch of stuff I wrote just like that. The next day, he came back to tell me that the band was already recording two of my lyrics.

We never actually told Mom because Mom would flip. That's what Moms do, they flip all the time. Especially since the two songs they chose were really tenacious. One about drugs, the other about a disturbed girl... Yeah, if Mom knows I'm behind those lyrics, she'll have me intern in the second. Why couldn't they have chosen one of the songs about rainbows and unicorns? Wait a second, I never wrote anything about those stupidities, that's why!

So of course, as I hear the song, I drop the sponge and I start to dance, my eyes closed as I sing the lyrics I wrote along with the girl of Luke's band:

_A Bloody Mary_

_With purple pills_

_**And now I'm stone**_

_**And I'm going under**_

I'm completely into the song. The thing is, I wanted the song to be between the addiction of drugs and the addiction you can get to people. Luke's voice comes to reinforce the girl's voice, and transmits that perfectly to my taste. I can already tell that the chorus will be _awesome_.

_A coke vodka_

_With fresh Ganga_

_**Takes over me**_

_**Reminds me your touch**_

I gently start lifting my tank top, just to caress the skin of my stomach as I keep on bouncing to the beat of the bass. The battery is here, but quite discreet. Well it was until now. The chorus explodes, and they both scream their passion. God, I can't wait to see the video clip!

_**You're all I want**_

_**You're all I need**_

_**My main addiction**_

_**Whisper my name**_

_**Scream loud, my name**_

_**Say my name, my drug**_

I twirl myself and open my eyes, ready to sing the next verse, but I freeze my movements. Jace is leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, a smirk on his face as his eyes travel all over my body, lingering on my revealed stomach. Well, that was something I didn't expect. As in, _at all_.

The song keeps on playing, but all my euphoria is gone. I mean, I love to dance. I love it so much that I want to make it a career, and I have the perfect partner for that: Jordan. But, I like to know when I'm observed because then I become more self-conscious and I don't do stupid things like I just did.

"Do you ever _not_ dance? It is really distracting to see you… _squirm_ like that all the time."

I raise an eyebrow at him, _okay_, I fail and raise both of them, and then I smirk at him, remembering how hot and bothered he was yesterday night when I 'danced' on him. To tell you the truth, thank God other people were in the room because otherwise I would have eaten him alive.

"You've never seen me dance."

"So what was that yesterday night?"

"That was just… a little warm up routine."

"_Routine_? So you really are a stripper."

"And you really are an ass. Where's Jon?"

"Taking a shower."

I grimace and go back to my dishes. When it comes to get ready, Jon can be such a princess. Once he took three hours to get ready. _Three freaking hours_! I don't know if you realize? That's like 180 minutes. It's three episodes of Games of Throne. It's The Fellowship of the Rings, long version! It's _freaking long_!

I hear Jace move in the kitchen, and suddenly, he's in the exact same position Jon was just a little while ago. His hands are on my waist, half touching my skin, half touching my top and his breath is hot on my neck.

"You know, if yesterday is any indication, there are many things we could do while he's at it."

That sounds kind of appealing. Kind of? Who am I kidding? He's hot as Hell and he has really interesting fingers, it _does_ sound appealing. Very appealing. But still, I play dumb, because I'm a girl, and girls can be teases sometimes.

"What? You want to do a manicure?"

"Afraid of something, Pixie?"

He makes me turn so we are face to face, and for the second time in ten minutes, I abandon my duty toward the sponge. Poor sponge. The idiot is smirking at me, daring me to actually step back, but this jerk doesn't know who he's dealing with. Stepping back is not part of my vocabulary.

"I don't know. What about you, _Jace_?"

He leans in, and _finally_ kisses me. At first, I simply appreciate it, because let's face it, a hot guy kisses you, you are bound to appreciate it. And if you don't, you're not normal. So yeah, I close my eyes and part my lips. A little at first because I'm not sure where he wants to go, but when he licks my lips with the tip of his tongue, his hands gripping my waist tightly, I open wider. I tangle my fingers in his hair, and I can't help but curse internally. He and Jon have hair that's too damn silky! _I'm_ the freaking girl, _I'm_ the one supposed to have the gorgeous hair!

Jace lifts me up and somewhere my mind registers that the water is still flooding in the sink. He nibbles my lips, and that's when my brain starts working like the bee I don't want it to be. I can't help but compare this kiss with the last one I had. And let me tell you, they're total opposites.

Alec's kiss was soft and hesitant. This one is fire like and promises unspeakable things. Jace's hands start to travel under my top as he tilts his head to suck the soft skin of my neck. You know which part I'm talking about. That part that makes girls close their eyes and moan as they get wet. _That_ part! Well, I'm a girl, so of course, I moan, and I can feel that the heat of my body has nothing to do with the weather.

Jace pinches my nipples (next time, wear a bra when you wake up Clary!) and I moan again. Jace starts to lean me against the counter, and his mouth goes down from my neck to my breast. I can't help but think of Jon. What if he walks in? Just at that moment, Jace nibbles my nipple and I yelp-moan. Okay, this is embarrassing to make so much noise just for a little foreplay, but I wasn't expecting that.

Where was I? Oh _dear God_, I swear his tongue is writing some unknown language on my breast! I mean, he's not as good as Jon, but ... You get the drift. Suddenly, I hope Jon comes in. Like that, we'll turn that into a threesome... Oh yeah, that would be good. Just thinking about it makes me clench my inner walls. Inner walls toward which Jace's fingers are approaching dangerously. _Very dangerously_. _Oh God_! I was _totally_ right, his fingers are _totally_ strong, and I _totally_ love it. I bite my lips and buck to him, and he pushes himself to leave a small gap between us, resting his forehead against mine.

"Wet, are we? ... _Good_."

Then he retrieves his hand from my shorts and smirks at me. I look at him but he's already halfway out of the kitchen. That _motherfucker_! He totally knew he was going to leave me frustrated! _Who does that_!? This is _so_ not going to end here! I am _so_ going to make him pay like he has never paid before! He is such a dead motherfucker!

As I let my mind run wild on the sweet words I'd love to tell Jace right now, Jon enters in the kitchen. _Hallelujah_! For once he didn't stay forever in that freaking bathroom. I love my best friend right now!

"Jon! I need your evil mind!"

"Why?"

"_Jace_!"

"Naha. I'm not coming between the two people who literally live with me. I'll end up as collateral damage."

"If you don't come up with something for me, I'll never blow you again at school! As a matter of fact, I'll never blow you again!"

Jon pales and I put on my serious face. I know how much he loves it when I give him a head, so this is massive betrayal from me. Sex buddies don't blackmail using sex, but I need to come up with something now! But then, before Jon can actually say anything, I just know what to do, and I already smile at the prank. Jon sees the evilness rising in me, and he tried to get me to back off.

"_Clary_..."

"Forget it, Jon."

I dash to the pantry and pray that Jace isn't in the shower yet. Which he isn't so I rush into it silently, quickly remove the head of the shower, place the bouillon cube and re-screw the head. Then I do a few things with his stuff and I leave the bathroom. Well, his hair won't be that silky, now will it?

When I go back downstairs, Mister M. is back. I smile to him and propose to make breakfast. Of course when I say make breakfast, it mostly means taking out the pancakes he made yesterday and warming them up in the pan. As I flip the pancakes, I strain my ear, waiting to hear that delicious noise. When I finally hear it, war has started. I just can't wait for him to see what I have planned next for him.

Just a minute after that really un-masculine shout, Jace appears in the doorframe, only a towel wrapped around his waist. Okay so maybe he smells like soup, but his body is still totally edible. _Six pack _edible. Anyone who's not into vegetables would turn into a freaking rabbit just for him. Especially when he has drops of water trailing all over him and calling to be licked away. Okay Clary, get a grip or you'll slip in your own drool. Still, I wonder if he's more a carrot or a cucumber...

Jace glares at me, pure fury in his eyes, but before he says all the things he wants to tell me, he spots Mister M., and his face passes from angry to blank. He looks back at me, and I innocently smile at him, my lips between my teeth.

"Something wrong, Jace?"

He narrows his eyes at me and I do my best not to smirk. I know that the two Morgenstern are looking at the both of us, trying to understand what's going on, but it's not like Jace seems that eager to share the news.

"There's no more hot water."

"That would explain that un-manly sound you made."

_Oh God_! I'm so good! I swear I'm the incarnation of evil. Come on Jace, grow a pair and say that you smell like soup. And I'll say what you did to me just half an hour ago. Jace keeps looking at me, and finally I see in his eyes what I've been yearning to see since I heard his girly scream:_challenge_. He is so not going to let that slide, and I am so ready for him. He doesn't know who he's up against! I'm the master of pranks, dude! I can't wait!

"Maybe you should at least go dry yourself. It's not good to stay all _wet_ like that, for anyone."

I can feel Jon's eyes on me as he seems to pick up what's going on, and Jace leaves the room, but not without glaring at me one last time. I sit at the table holding back my smirk because I know what's coming next. I'm anticipating that so much that I can't even eat. I love my life right now! And now even more as I hear Jace growl upstairs. There's a large commotion and then nothing. Mister M. glances at me, and I pretend to eat my pancakes. He's not an idiot, he knows that I'm behind all of it, but he's apparently internally debating whether he should butt in or not.

As I hear Jace taking the stairs, I promptly get up and say I'll make some fresh orange juice. Jace comes in the kitchen, we all turn our heads to him, and I can't hold it anymore. I burst into laughter as his face and hair still have trace of Curcuma. I'm a fucking genius! Curcuma is so much better than baby powder in the dryer because it _stays_!

"_You_!"

"_Me_?"

"_Kids_… Don't spill any blood. It's still breakfast."

I smirk at Jace and then serve Jon and Mister M. their orange juice. I wait for the golden-curcuma idiot to sit and I start doing his orange juice like the nice person I am. Except that I already dropped a little of blue food coloring in the bottom of his glass. So of course when the juice comes and mixes with it, his drink takes a greenish color. I give the glass to Jace, pretending to be sorry.

"Sorry, it was the last oranges. I guess they weren't that good."

He narrows his eyes at the glass before glaring at me and pushing the glass in the middle of the table. That's why I didn't make any juice for me, because I knew he would think I tricked his juice with some nasty stuff. Too bad for him. I shrug and take the glass, downing it as if it was vodka.

"_Delicious_, wasn't it?"

Mister M. opens his mouth again before closing it. I know what he's thinking. A few years ago, Jon and I entered in a prank contest like that. It got to the point that we both got expelled from school, and people around us were afraid to touch anything that we touched. But most importantly, it ended with me in a dark alley with some creep. I never told anyone but Jon. Mister M. only knew because he was the one who saved my ass.

I quickly glance at Jon's father and reassure him with a small smile. I know the limits now, I know where and when to stop.

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

**.**

**kiark kiark. So that's what I get when I suffer from insomnia. It gives you a glimpse of what life is at home when pranks start... I'm soooo glad to be put of this house. Still, what sweet memories I have. **

**Anyway, apparently Jace didn't see that coming, Clary can be such a b*** when she's frustrated. But I understand her totally. And my question now... How do you think Jon will react? What's really going on between him and Clary? Is Jace only a bump in their perfect blooming love (let's get rid of him and kill Jim yark yark)!**

**Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments franchise, and thank you for my beta, IWriteNaked for correcting my mistakes and making the story more fluent for you guys. And yeah, go check her stories as in NOW!**

**Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang**


	4. War & Peace?

That motherfucking girl! I'm going to kill her! I'm freaking going to kill her. She has no idea with whom she's messing. What does she think? That pulling that innocent face of hers will make me play nice? She has _no idea._ I can be as evil and twisted as her. She has no freaking idea.

Pixie leaves with that fucking annoying, innocent grin on her face, saying that Jonathan and I should come by her house later. To tell the truth, I can't wait to be in her house. She has no idea how far I'm willing to go. If she thinks that momentarily dying me in orangish curcuma is going to make me step back, she is sadly mistaken. As soon as the door clicks shut, Jonathan turns his head to me, something like worry and anxiety haunting his face.

"Jace ... _Don't_ play her game."

I don't look up at him. I'm certainly not going to let that little devil prank me like that. If he's submissive to her, that's his problem. I'm not. I'll show her what it is to mess with someone who means business.

I get up, having barely touched my food (it's better that I don't touch anything that she prepared), and Valentine finally looks up from his plate. The whole time that little demon had been obviously making fun of me, he had kept his eyes steady on his food. But now his dark brown eyes are on me, seriousness and worry in his gaze.

"Jon is right. Don't play her game. Last time... _Just_, whatever you did, apologize and offer a clean sleeve."

What happened last time? Did she kill someone? Yesterday I would have say no with that innocent little face of hers, but _now_... Who knows? Maybe she's a serial killer. Maybe she made a guy die from blue balls? I heard that's actually possible. Or maybe she set a house on fire. I don't know. Now everything seems possible with little Pixie.

I want to ask Valentine, but I know he won't say anything. If he didn't say anything to his son about my weird case, he's certainly not going to rat on his almost-daughter-in-law to a stranger like me. _Especially_ a stranger like me.

So, I play along and shrug. I don't promise anything because I know myself. No matter what, I can't let her think that she'll win like that. Actually, to be completely honest, I love this thing she's selling me. It's a freaking perfect distraction from the problems that led me here. So I'm going to keep this going as long as I can. If not for the challenge, just for my sanity it offers.

I go to my room, already thinking of all the nasty tricks I can pull on Pixie. After half an hour of picturing countless methods of revenge on the red little devil, Jonathan knocks at my door, saying that he's going to her place. I inwardly smile and say that I'll go with him. As soon as he closes the front door, I ask about this little blank in her past.

"What happened last time?"

He doesn't answer right away, but I know he heard me just fine because his shoulders are tensed all of the sudden. I quickly glance at him and from the corner of my eyes, I see guilt on his face. As he puts his hand on the knob of her door, as if it is his own home, he heavily sighs and he says in a low murmur:

"I went too far. My pranks took her where she should never have gone and there's no way I'll let that happen again. So, suck it up and forget this little plan of getting revenge."

Then he opens the door, after having looked me straight in the eyes to silently tell me that he meant his words. I follow him in the house, not even slightly convinced to back off, but still intrigued as to what would make the father and son so concerned.

As we step in the living room, Pixie tumbles down the stairs with nothing more than a white towel wrapped around her. She looks at us before sighing and going back upstairs with a shrug, a few loose red curls bouncing out of her high and messy bun. I sit on the couch while Jon heads upstairs and I surprise by wishing that he wasn't here.

I mean, I'm a guy and well, Pixie is a girl. A demon girl, but the word girl remains. I really do hope he didn't go upstairs to fuck her because this is going to be annoying. I didn't come here to hear her get fucked by him, but to mess with her head.

Speaking of messing with her head, maybe I should go to her kitchen. She seems to have a thing with food pranks. Well, let's give her what she likes. I strain my ear, to make sure that they're not coming downstairs, or that they're not fucking. But there's nothing to hear, which is surprising, because she seems to have such a big mouth when it's just the two of them. Or maybe her mouth is busy elsewhere. Oh God, why did I think that? _Really_? You really need to be messed up to think of a girl giving a head to another guy.

I shake my head to remove that God forsaken image from my mind and I silently wander through her house until I find the kitchen. Once there, I noiselessly look around, switching a few things like the salt and the sugar, or the cooking spray with vinegar. As I open the cupboard, I find grape Kool-Aid and I smirk to myself, taking it and hiding it in my pocket.

I keep fussing around in her kitchen, trying to find that little thing that will turn her as red as her hair, and then I see it. Right here, in the fridge, a nice bottle of apple juice. I must admit, I hesitate a little. Not because of Pixie, but more because of Jonathan. He'll automatically become collateral damage, and the poor bastard didn't ask for that. But then again, he's the one who helped her start it all. So yeah, he should also pay a little.

I quickly do my little deed before rushing back in the living room as I hear footsteps on the stairs. I slump in the couch and try to take my most bored expression as someone enters behind me, and suddenly, Pixie slides next to me, up and down before smirking at me. Damn, I'd love to wipe that fucking smile of her face, just to prove to her that she's no master here.

"It's not even funny. You're so tan that I don't even see the orange on your freaking face."

I don't even bother glaring at her. I'm not giving her that satisfaction. So, I just look in front of me. Mostly because looking at her awakens parts of me that should be sleeping right now. It's like the girl doesn't know the word trousers. _Again_, she's in shorts. Her shirt is probably one of Jonathan's because it's way too big for her. But because of that stupid position she's in, it lifts up and shows a little too much stomach if you ask me.

I mean her head is level with my lap and her legs are hanging over the top of the couch. Who sits like that? It would be so easy for me to move my hand just a little and caress her skin. It's really tempting. Especially since I know how soft is her skin. I'm not going to lie, working her up, also worked on me this morning.

I hear her sigh and from the corner of my eye, I see her upping on her elbows and staring deeply at me. So now, I kind of have to look back at her, and when I do, there's a little wrinkle of annoyance in her forehead.

"So Jon said 'yatty, yatty, yatta, don't start this thing again, nag, nag, nag, apologize or else'. And the thing is, I don't want it to stop. So when he finishes his call with his Mom, I'll officially apologize. Just know that I don't mean it."

"You're one frustrated girl, aren't you?"

"Whose fault is that? Though, if you're willing to change that, I'm willing to mean my apology."

"Who said I wanted anything to do about your sexual frustration? Ask your boyfriend, or whatever, upstairs."

She laughs out loud at the mention of Jonathan and shakes her head. Their denial is starting to become fucking annoying. _Seriously_! Just admit your feelings you damn idiots! She lifts herself a little bit more, and I can't help but think that the position she's in right now must be very uncomfortable.

"He's not the one who frustrated me now, is he?"

Oh, so now it's _my_ fault? Who's the girl who gave me a lap dance when she knew perfectly well that I was going to get a useless boner? Before I can even retort, she gets up in a really inhumane move and then she leans in, whispering in my ear with her boobs too close to my face.

"And haven't you heard? Sex is the best way to relieve your body from any other form of tension. I'm willing to help with your frustration, if you're willing to help with mine."

This girl... She's the fucking _Devil_. Not a small devil, not a low rank demon, she's _Satan_ incarnate. She knows her bestie is to come downstairs any second, she knows that we officially started a war, and she still comes to seduce me, knowing that it will lead to nothing.

She quickly straightens up as Jonathan walks in and she says that she'll be back in a second. Jonathan sits next to me, his eyes narrowed. I know he wants to tell me something. Probably something like 'back off from my best friend, I don't want her to get hurt'. When what he wants to say is 'she's mine, hands off'. _Fucking clichés_.

Pixie comes back in less than a minute, saying that she put some frozen pizzas in the oven and she's holding a bottle of juice. I look at the bottle as she puts it on the table and then she bends, and so my eyes are directly drawn to her ass. Hey, I'm a guy. Girl bending = ass = guy checking them out.

"Who wants to play _Injustice: Gods Among Us_?"

"I don't want to play against _you_."

"You're such a baby, Jon!"

Pixie grins and jumps between the two of us before handing me a controller. I take it, against Jonathan's advice and the red Devil grins even wider.

"She's going to kill your ego, Jace."

"Yeah. Or maybe I'm not a girl like you, Jonathan."

"Okay. So first of all why don't you call him Jon? His -_your_- name is a freaking mouthful to say. Second, if he was a girl, he'd actually kick ass at that game, because I do."

I glance at Pixie, but she's not even looking at me. She and Jon are having a silent conversation with their eyes, and from what she told me before, I know what this is about. She starts the game, calling dibs on a character that I would have never picked and Jon elbows her.

"Alright, _alright_. Jace I'm _sorry_ I made you smell like soup and to have aromatize you like a Colombo dish."

"Clary... _Mean it_."

She childishly mimics him and I decide to make it harder for her. Anything just to annoy her.

"Yeah, because I'm not feeling the regret here."

She narrows her eyes at me, obviously biting back a few well-chosen words that she would love to tell me and then she grabs the bottle. Oh, yes!

"I'm not hearing any apologies from you for putting your hand in my shorts either."

"You did _what_?"

She smirks at me, and I swear she's holding from sticking her tongue out at me. But my attention is all fixed on that bottle that she's slowly opening as I do my best to keep my face blank.

"You see what kind of people you make me hang around Jon... My poor virtue is stained forever."

_Oh come on_! Even _she_ doesn't believe her own lie. She's laughing her ass off, falling on the floor, with the bottle still in her hand. Jon passes a hand in his hair, laughing along with her, but his laughter is less honest than hers. She is clearly dying from her own joke while Jon is looking slightly guilty. And then, when her hysteria passes, she finally takes the bottle to her lips.

She takes a long sip before snapping her eyes open and glaring at me, her mouth still full of the yellow liquid. I can see the anger rising in her and I diabolically smirk at her. She slowly gets up and stands in front of me before spitting the content of her mouth on me.

"_Fuck_!"

"_You're such a dead motherfucker_!"

In a high-pitched cry of war, she launches herself at me, hurling insanities I never thought I'd hear in a girl's mouth. And fuck, her punches hurt. At first I just try to hold her at a distance, but when she bites me, I'm reminded she's a _girl_. Girls don't have rules when they fight. _Not at all_! The bitch just kicked me in the balls! I growl and tackle her on the ground, but she doesn't seem to even notice. Where did that little Pixie find all this strength?

Suddenly, we're separated, and Jon is standing between the two of us, holding his hands in both of our chests. He's scowling at both of us as if we were kids, but Pixie still tries to reach me, doing her best to avoid her best friend.

"Clary..."

"He fucking _peed_ in the apple juice, Jon! He put pee in my freaking mouth! _I'm going to fucking kill him_! Argh!"

And with those words she jumps on Jon's back before jumping off it and falling on me, her fists already attacking me. And suddenly, she stops drop dead and straightens up, her hips still straddling me. She fidgets a little and take out of her back pocket her buzzing phone, before smiling as she sees the caller ID. _Who's that girl_? How can she pass from fury to smiling angel in less than a second? _Wow_, smiling angel? She's still on top of me as she takes the phone call, placing a finger on her lips and mouthing us that it's her Mom.

"Yeah, Mom?"

She's still a little out of breath and apparently her Mom hears that because Pixie rolls her eyes, scratching her nose. It's like she doesn't notice that she's sitting on me, her ass on my... _jeans_! I need to focus on Jon's eyes on us and her Mom on the other end of the phone, because otherwise I'm not responsible for my actions.

"No, I am not fighting with Jon. I am fighting with the new imbecile in town. His hidden evil twin brother. A real idiot!"

Her Mom says something that makes her frown and then she smiles a little before passing a hand through her hair, shaking them a little and looking at the ceiling. Of course as she does so, her whole body moves. Do I even have to say what part disturbs me the most?

"Not really. He seems completely antisocial. Like, worse than Hannibal Lecter. At least Hannibal was smart. And the worst of this whole thing is that they share the same dumb name. Yeah, but I call him Jace."

Whatever her Mom just said makes her burst out loud and bend her head over my torso. Well, I'd like to know the joke too, because it's getting freaking hard not to get hard around here.

"_No_! I just don't want to spend the rest of my life saying Jon number one and Jon number two."

Because now she's so freaking close to me, I can hear her mother ask her if I'm nice. Her mother's voice is sweet. You know, the way a mother talks to her child with love and all that shit. It's almost touching. _Almost_. Pixie sits up, as if she's insulted by the question.

"No. He's not nice at all. He's actually very mean. He _peed_ in my bottle of apple juice and _let me drink it_!"

_Is she serious_? Is she really whining to Mommy? Where's the little Devil who was assaulting me two minutes ago? Jon sits on the couch, his eyes lingering on me in a way I don't like at all. It's like he's seeing me on another light and looking really hard to find my soul. And that's the problem; there's no soul to find.

"Why are you defending _him_!? You're _my_ Mom, you shouldn't care about... Actually, you're totally right, but it was totally worth it! Except for the pee part."

She snickers a bit before her eyes fall on me. She frowns a little, as if she is surprised to see me, and then she blushes and swiftly gets up. _Finally_! I sit up on the floor as she dismissed her mother on something she said, putting some more distance between us. Then her eyes land on Jon.

"What about Jon?"

Jon raises an eyebrow at her and I catch the ghost of a smile on both of their lips. _Fuck that_! Who freaking communicates through telepathy?! This is not freaking X-Men! Pixie quickly leans in, still on the phone with her Mom, and she kisses Jon's right cheek which makes him chuckle. What the fuck is wrong with those two people?

"Why should he mind?"

Whatever her Mom tells her, it makes her frown and she finally does what every reasonable person would have done from the beginning, and she leaves the room. So, apparently, everyone is freaking aware of Jon feeling something for Pixie. Everyone, that is, except her. This is getting ridiculous. If I can't prank her without having a banshee on my face, I sure as Hell will mess with her life.

"She likes you."

"Uh?"

"Clary. She likes you. She doesn't speak that freely to her Mom about or in front of people she doesn't like. And she doesn't prank if she doesn't like you."

"Why should I care?"

"Because, despite her being completely crazy, she's right. You do look antisocial and she is a very good listener. And most importantly, she doesn't judge."

For crying out loud. Why am I freaking hanging out with them? Why doesn't he simply say that he loves her, instead of trying to play it cool with that deal of theirs? If he wants her for himself, he should just tell her, instead of glaring at me because she tried to rip my eyes out. I mean that crazy nutcase left scratch and bite marks all over my upper body, and not the good kind.

Pixie comes back as I sit back on the couch, two pizzas in her hands. She sets them of the table and hands Jon the knife as she sits on the floor in front of us. She looks up to the ceiling and seems to look for her words before planting her damn green eyes in mines, with determination in them.

"I promised my Mom that I wouldn't... _harm_ you anymore. And she precisely said neither physically nor emotionally. So, I'm _not_ sorry for yesterday night, I'm _not_ sorry for this morning, I'm _not_ sorry for punching you, and I only wish I did something even worse."

Well, at least she's honest. If I'm being honest too, I'm not sorry for this morning, but now that I think of it, I do feel a little bad about the juice thing. _A little_. Maybe because she didn't react like I thought she would and she tried to beat the shit out of me. Now that I think about it, it was kind of a turn on. I never understood angry make-up sex, but now I do.

"So, let's go back to the beginning when you were just a gorgeous antisocial idiot and not some asshat who tried to make me drink his pee, shall we?"

Shit, she's the one showing the white flag. It's not like she wants to, she said that much, but still. She's showing a white pawn, and so now I'm expected to do the same. Especially since Jon and his father asked me to back off and I deliberately didn't.

I'm completely lost in my thoughts like an idiot, pondering if I should take this peace offering or not. I mean, that red fury that I saw, I liked very much. For a second, she made me feel alive. I was literally living each time that she pulled something on me, starting with that fucking cock blocking lap dance.

_Fuck_. I'll never be able to forget that stunt of hers! That fucking proves that I fucking need to get laid. And quickly. Maybe I should call that STD girl. Kylie, Krissy, K...

"It's Kaelie. And if you touch her, I'll kill you. _Literally_."

_Shit_! Was I talking out loud? I really need to pay more attention to the people surrounding me. Like, seriously. Pixie is glaring at me, and if we had been in a cartoon, I swear daggers would have come out her green eyes. She looks freaking pissed. Why? Is she jealous that I'm considering banging another girl when she's obviously around? That makes me smirk.

"Why? She's your bestie or something?"

"I'm her knight in shining armor. Just know that what I just did was nothing compared to what I _can_ do. I'll morph into a motherfucking dragon if you even _look_ at her the wrong way."

Oh Pixie, don't you get it? Making her something untouchable finally gives me the motivation to go after her. Especially if it means pissing off Pixie, because when she's pissed off, she's so adorable. Scary adorable, but still adorable. And I can't believe I just used that word.

We finish eating and we finally start playing, and I'm literally getting my ass kicked. She took freaking Harley Quinn. The girl doesn't even have super powers! And the worst part, worse than dying after sixty seconds while I barely touched her, the worst is that she's beating me effortlessly. She's so in her element that she's back in that weird position of hers, upside down the couch between Jon and I.

Because I cannot decently say out loud that I surrender, she has this outburst of niceness and at some point she gives her controller to Jon against whom I finally have a fair chance of winning. She stays here, between the two of us, her eyes clinched on the screen as we lose and win in rotation.

From time to time she sighs at our tactics and after being beaten by Jon one more time, I let the controller fall next to me. Pixie eyes it, but Jon is quicker than her and switches off the console before she can seize it. She heaves, glaring at Jon, and she whines in her hands.

"I'm bored, guys!"

"Well danse la Macarena."

I stare at Jon who's looking at Pixie and guess what she does? She sticks her tongue out. I swear I've never seen a girls tongue so often before. The both of them are completely crazy. He's crazy for saying something so stupid in such a normal way, and her for just being her. It's no wonder Valentine didn't hesitate to take me in. He knows plenty about nut-cases.

Pixie stretches like a cat, which is not normal if you ask me, and she moans her boredom away. No, she doesn't yawn, she _moans_. I mean that word. Then she does one of those weird things she always does (I think I'll stop saying weird when talking about her. Pixie=weird), she flip flops and finds herself in front of us on her feet, determination in her eyes. And let me tell you, I don't like that look on girls. _Especially_ when they put their hands on their hips. _Especially_ when they're called Pixie.

"Guys? Let's do a threesome."

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

**.**

**WTF? Whats wrong with that girl? **

**I hope you liked this chapter, well tell me all your thoughts .**

**and guys, who's point of view should I put next?**

**and I started a newvstory, 'Emotions', if you could checks it out, it would mean a lot to me.**

**Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments franchise, and thank you for my beta, IWriteNaked for correcting my mistakes and making the story more fluent for you guys. And yeah, go check her stories as in NOW!**

**Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang**


	5. That's Fucking Awesome!

Is this girl even serious? Is she even a _girl_? Who says that? Who wants to have a freaking threesome because they are bored out of their minds? This girl is a fucking nutcase! I mean,geez! _Seriously_? I know it's every guy's fantasy, but with two _girls_, not another guy and the Devil! I don't know what to think about this girl, anymore. She's just too fucking damaged. I think her parents rocked her too close to the wall when she was a baby. There's no other explanation.

Pixie looks back and forth at the both of us, as if she's actually expecting a real positive answer. What's really crazy is that imbecile of second brain that is my dick is starting to respond positively to her request. I clench my jaw and think of Jon, and how I would rather not see him in anything less than what he is wearing right now.

"_No_." There's so much determination in his voice. _Thank you so much_, Jon! I know I'm the one who said that their situation is ridiculously cliché, and that I didn't want to help them out in any way, but _now_... Fuck everything I said! I'll make sure that Jon says what he feels, so that I don't have to end up doing… I don't even know what! But I'm not doing it. I just keep looking at Pixie, and send all my mental vibes to Jon, hoping he will say something stupid, like 'I love you' or some shit like that.

"_Why_?" Fuck! She has the indecency to look shocked by his refusal! Her voice is a few pitches higher, and now she's glaring at the poor guy, her fists on her hips. Why is this girl so oblivious? And why am I still sitting here instead of walking out of this madhouse? Oh yeah, because I love chaos, and because the drama I'm seeing right now will lead to some awesome chaos.

I know I'm playing with fire here. I know that by staying silent, I'm silently according Pixie her wish. But if Jon grows a pair, World War III will explode before me. I don't think Pixie wants to admit anything concerning her feelings, and their feelings in general.

Jon heaves, and I can feel it when he glances at me, but my face stays straight. No one will ever be able to see what's happening inside of my mind. Jon returns his attention to Pixie, and I notice that neither of us has moved. It's like her words have frozen us.

"Because I don't want to see another guy's junk, when I'm at it."

"You didn't seem to mind when _I_ was the one who had to see another pair of boobs, when she was at it!"

Wait, _what_? They already did this shit together? Right now the only thing I can think of is, 'Well done, dude!' I mean, _come on_! _Two girls_. He managed to convince a regular fuck to have a threesome with another girl. I know for a fact that it's not that easy. Threesomes are usually those one-time things that you do with strangers, or casual (_really casual_) fucks. Geez, if Pixie wasn't mind-blowing us right now with her crazy ideas of playtime, I would have totally high-fived Jon!

"It's not the same. And you never complained about it, now did you?"

Pixie childishly mimics him and Jon shakes his head. Whether it's from desperation or refusal, I don't know, but what I know is that I can feel his walls tumbling down. And I know that Pixie feels it too. She's grinning now, as if she already won, and it makes me wonder: is there anything that this sucker wouldn't do for her?

"Oh, come on, Jon. It's going to be fun."

Slowly, Pixie lifts her shirt up before dropping it on the floor, leaving her in shorts and bra. And man, she's fine. Subconsciously, I lean a little bit forward, which does not go unnoticed by either of them. But, _come on_! I haven't been laid in ages, and there's this little Devil showing her skin in front of me, as if she is some piece of fine meat. I would eat her up. Eat her like a lion eats an antelope after weeks of starvation.

Jon crosses his arms in his chest, and there's a little deception in Pixie's eyes. Apparently it's not as easily as she thought it would be to convince Jon. _Wait_… To convince _us_! Like Jon said, I don't want to see another guy's junk.

"Clary, I'm not doing it!"

"Let's make a bet then!"

Jon heaves again, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and he looks at Pixie as if she's a child. She steps back a little, a warning and frightening look on her face. I know that whatever Jon wants to tell her, he should just drop it and give her what she wants. I mean, even _I_ am scared of that look, and it's not even directed at me.

"If this is about what I told you yesterday—"

"_Shut up_ Jon! It's about what's fair. _You_ had your fantasy. _I_ didn't. Don't psychoanalyze me about _that_!"

"You're fantasizing about Jared Leto, and I don't hear you asking for him to bang you!"

Pixie narrows her eyes dangerously at Jon, and I know shit is about to happen. I know there's something they're both keeping quiet, and apparently it's something that gets under Pixie's skin. It makes me curious because if I can mess with her head, I'll do it, no matter how 'peacefully' she came to me.

"_Fuck you_, Jon!"

She grabs her shirt from the floor, and Jon gets up as if he wants to take her in his arms. But of course, because he's a fucking chicken, he doesn't do it and just miserably looks at her. I swear, a girl will never have this much power over me. To pull mood swings like that, propose things you don't propose normally, and put the blame on you when it turns to shit. _Never_! I know I'll stick to that promise, because I know what _really_ happens when shit _really_ goes down.

Pixie glares at Jon on more time, before walking pass the couch. Of course, being a guy, I can't help but check out her ass when her back is facing me. She starts walking away, but as she reaches the door, she turns to glower at us. "I'll be in the basement if you guys ever grow a pair."

_The basement_? Who wants to have sex in the basement? That girl is fucking crazy! C. R. A. Z.Y! My karma must be really bad. I can't believe I ended up in a family like this, after the mess of my previous one. _Really bad_!

Jon passes a tired hand over his face before looking at me. I must say from the outside I probably look like I'm shocked out of my mind. But I don't look back at him, because it just seems weird. And because I don't want to hear him say things like 'I said no because she's mine,' because I don't care about his states of mind.

"Sorry about that. I don't know what got into her." _Seriously_? He doesn't know? She was pretty obvious, wasn't she? She was _bored_. Come on! If he wanted her to back off, he should have been honest. We wouldn't be having this awkward conversation right now.

"If you'd told her why you really didn't want to do it, it would have been easier, and I wouldn't have to witness this Hollywood drama."

Jon intensely stares at me for so long that I have no other choice than to look back at him. When I do so, he heaves and gets up. Wait, _what_? He's not supposed to do that! Then he starts walking away and turns to me when he's at the door to tell me:

"You know what? I think she's right. We should do it. If you're up to it, we'll be in the basement."

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

.

Jon comes downstairs and stares at me through the mirror with a serious look on his face. I hate when he's being like that. It's like he doesn't want to forget, and keeps on throwing that event back at me every time I want to do something fun. Stupid analyzer. He should be a psychoanalyst or something, when he grows up.

I ignore his silent scowl and keep on stretching, with my eyes back on my reflection. Jon approaches me and rests his hand on my waist, waiting for me to drop my leg back to its rightful place. Then he hugs me against him and nuzzles his nose in the crook of my neck, making me lean against him.

"Clary? What is this really about?"

"Like I said, I just want to try it at least once. And if you pull that card again, I'm going to lose it."

"Then I won't. It's just that… I thought you already had plenty."

I chuckle a little, finally understanding that Jon is just being a guy. Guys and their egos! I wonder how they managed to start so many wars because of those egos. I spin myself and lock my hands behind Jon's neck.

"Come on, Jon. You know that you're the best of them all, but it's the kind if things we do when we're young, and not when it's too late."

I kiss him, knotting my fingers in his blond hair, which is annoyingly silky. When I feel him respond, I can't help but smile. His grip on me tightens a little, and he takes my lower lip between his teeth making me repress a moan. I can feel him smirk as I lift his shirt up. Once the shirt out of the way, Jon takes me back in his arms, caressing my cheek before telling me, "Clary, if he comes, I'm not sure how this will go."

"Just trust me, and go with the flow."

I can see that he's still a little doubtful, so I seductively trail my fingers to his belt and undo his trousers. He starts scolding me with his eyes and takes my hands in his before clashing his lips on mine. I do my best to repress my smile. I realize that he wants to be in control, and I gladly comply. I mean Jon in control… Any girl who's been with him knows how _pleasant_ it can be.

His hands are all over my body and all of the sudden my bra is gone. Jon takes one of my breast in his hand and plays with my hardened nipple. I close my eyes, and moan as he takes the soft skin of my collarbone between his teeth. God, this guy knows where to push my buttons! His other hand goes to unbutton my shorts and he starts flicking my clit, which make me open my eyes abruptly.

That's when I see Jace looking at us from the stairs. His face is blank, but his eyes are filled with lust. I see that he glances around the room, his eyes lingering a moment longer on the mirrors, before he takes the last steps and switch off the light.

As he does so, it's like something clicks in Jon, and he kneels in front of me, sliding my shorts and panties down along the way. I gasp loudly when his magical tongue licks my clit, and suddenly another pair of hands is on my breast. Jace is now behind me, and he kisses my neck, while kneading my breast. All I can think of right now is that threesomes with two guys are _awesome_! I mean, I'm getting all the attention here, and it's fucking awesome!

Jon is eating me out as if I'm his favorite cake, and finally, finally, he slides a finger into me. All I can do is moan. Jace breathes in deeply, his face in my neck and his fingers play with my nipples in a way I've never experienced before. My hands fly involuntary to Jon's hair, and that seems to do it for him. Without any warning, he adds another finger and starts plunging in and out of me.

Now, I'm completely lost, and I'm a moaning mess. I can't think of anything but the pleasure I'm feeling right now. It should be forbidden to feel so much pleasure at once. I can't even stand on my legs anymore, and so I lean into Jace for support, feeling the bulge under his trousers against my back. And Jon keeps on making me lose my mind until I can't take it anymore.

"_Fuck, Jon_!"

I buck my lips to Jon's mouth before going completely limp. Jon kisses his way back up to my lips, and I don't know how they do it, but the two boys never touch. As Jace's fingers trail down to my eaten core, Jon kisses me, and I taste myself in him. My fingers go to his belt, but I realize that I already took care of that earlier so I turn on myself, and take care of Jace's belt just before falling to my knees. I mean, _come on, _I just survived the perfect orgasm…

My fingers stumble a little on his buttons before I get them out of the way. Did I mention that Jace switched off the light? I think it's because he didn't want me to run away when I saw that _thing_ a hanging between his legs. Don't get me wrong, it's not about the length. It's about the girth, and of course, I just realize what he's all about just when my hand wraps around him. How am I going to fit _that_ in my mouth?!

I hear the rip of a paper, and suddenly Jon enters me in one swift motion, making me gasp. And so, the boa constrictor in front of me snakes its way inside of my mouth as Jace fists my hair, a low growl coming from his chest.

Is it wrong for me to say that I love it? I mean, I'm practically a doll between those two who are fucking my brain out of me, and still, I'm _so_ into it. Jon is definitely less gentle than usual, but I'm _definitely_ not complaining! _Oh my God! _Am I a masochist? I knew I never should have read Justine. This stupid Count of Sad completely depraved me!

As if they concerted each other, the boys increase the pace and I'm back to moaning. Well, it's not like I can do anything else, but _damn_. I hear Jon grunt behind me, and I know that he will finish soon. So, I decide that the three of us will finish together and starts doing something about Jace instead of just being an open hole.

As he pounds into my mouth, I struggle (yeah, because his boa constrictor takes the entire place in my mouth) to twirl my tongue around his head. Apparently he likes it, because his grip on my hair tightens. So I keep playing with him, hollowing my cheeks and earning a satisfying grunt from Jace.

His grip on my hair is so tight that it hurts, but it's not unbearable. In one movement, he retrieves himself from me as Jon pounds one last time, causing me to emit a noise I never thought I'd make. You know, the kind of noise that bitches make. _That_ noise. Before I could even catch my breath, Jace jerks his load onto my chest.

I can officially say that I am dead! Seriously, I've been convinced that it is possible to die from sex. I lay on the floor for a moment, doing my best to stop breathing like a panting dog. I know that neither Jon nor Jace have moved, and when I think I can finally trust my legs, I get up and put my clothing back on. I definitely need another shower.

I start leaving the basement, and then remember that I was dealing with guys. You know, they always need to be reassured and stuff. They're worse than kids.

"See guys? It wasn't that hard. Next time we should do it at your place. That way we'll actually have a bed, and it'll be more… cozy."

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

**.**

**And here was the crazy time. Kiark kiark. Am I the only perv here? I don't think so. Any way I hope you liked it. Don't forget to say. And what do you think will happen next?**

**Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments franchise, and thank you for my beta, IWriteNaked for correcting my mistakes and making the story more fluent for you guys. And yeah, go check her stories as in NOW!**

**Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang**


	6. Maestro Fucking Jace!

I take a really, _really_ long shower, relishing under the falling water. Mostly, I'm avoiding the guys. I don't want to sit downstairs and have this awkward game of stares we already had with Jon and Tessa. I mean, I'm perfectly fine with what happened, but guys being guys, I'm sure they're over thinking the damn thing.

Once I'm dried off, I go downstairs only to find Jace in the living-room flipping through the channels. When he hears me walking in and quickly glances my way before looking back at the screen. But then he snaps his head back at me and narrows his eyes, staring at me for the longest time which makes me close my eyes. I internally check if I forgot something vital, like _clothes_, and frown when I realise that I'm wearing completely normal clothes.

Okay, it's a dress, but I can wear dress too. I'm a girl, after all. I shrug and sit next to Jace as his eyes never leave me. _Geez_, if wearing a dress has this impact in guys, maybe I'll wear them more often. Jace is still staring at me when I realise that there's something vital missing in this room.

"Where's Jon?" I ask, a little panicked by his sudden disappearance. Maybe he didn't enjoy it as much as I thought

"He went out to bring some take away. Something like Taki's or whatever." Jace says in a disinterested tone. Well, at least Jon is okay. If he went to get Taki's, he's more than okay, actually.

"Don't whatever Taki's!" I growl.

Jace raises an eyebrow at me and I internally double curse him. I mean _come on_! First he insulted Taki's, and now he has this magic power to pull up just on eyebrow! Stupid Jace. He keeps looking at me for a while, as if I'm some strange creature, and then he reports his attention to the TV screen. I do the same, but as soon as I see what he wants to inflict on me, I snatch the remote out of his hands.

Of course, he wasn't expecting this, so he tightens his grip on the remote, and I end up on his laps. It's like I'm the queen of awkward or something. I look up to Jace only to see him smirking down at me and for some unknown reasons, I blush.

"If you wanted a second round, you should have just asked." He says, his damn smirk still plastered on his face.

I roll my eyes and reach for the remote once again, but in a commotion that I don't quite get, I find myself lying in the couch, Jace hovering above me. His golden eyes are flying all over my face. I know what he has in mind. I mean, I can literally _feel_ his boa constrictor in his trousers, pressed up against me. And I can't really say that I'd mind... _God_! I'm such a horny teenager!

He leans closer slowly—painfully slowly, but seriously, I'm not willing to allow him to take his sweet time, so I grab his collar and finally connect his lips with mines. He seems surprise for a split second, but then he quickly picks up and kisses me back as his hands travel on the sides of my body. His lips are moving in synchronisation against mine, before I grow tired of this chaste kiss and ask for entrance.

I mean, _come on_! We're not twelve anymore. It's not like we've never been more intimate before. When he parts his lips, his tongue squirms into my mouth and tries to rule as if he's become the king of my mouth. But of course, I fight back because there's no way I'll ever be under a king's dominance, and even less in my own mouth!

I can feel the boa grow against my thigh and so I arch myself. The friction I get is so delectable that I literally moan. Jace smirks (yeah, I know he's smirking and not smiling!) against my lips, and as he starts kissing his way to my neck, his hands creeps up my dress. And let me just say, I _love_ Jace's fingers. They're magic. Just by lightly touching me, they make me shiver all over the place.

I keep on arching myself as he starts sucking and nibbling my neck, trying desperately to get some friction. Suddenly, Jace settles me steadily against the couch with his body. Then his lips travel from my neck to my breast, outlining my décolleté with his tongue as his fingers play with the hem of my panties.

I'm not sure if he's asking permission or if he just wants to set my nerves on fire, but he keeps this little game for a little while, never doing what I expect him to do. His mouth never takes in my breast, even though I can feel his hot breath on me, and his fingers never fondle me, even though they're brushing my thighs.

I keep waiting, but it never comes. I open my eyes (when did I even close them?) and look down, my breathing completely messed up. And it's at this precise moment that Jace finally acts, and of course, as I wasn't expecting it, I yelp in pleasure. _His fucking fingers are fucking magical_! They're like the Eight Wonders of the World! They're so fucking good that I don't even remember who I am right now. I'm just a bundle of pleasure.

It's like there's this chaos in me, and Jace's fingers are the maestro that turns it into a beautiful and grandiose symphony. And God, I can't wait for the finale. The big boom. I'll probably collapse under his fingers. He's too fucking good.

He so fucking good that I barely notice that he's also busy with my breast. I don't even know how he reacts about this whole making me lose my mind thing. I'm completely lost in the pleasure he gives me. He should definitely make a job out of this skill. Like 'Professional Fondler' or 'Human Fingery Dildo'. And the crazy thing is, he's _just_ fondling me! Now that he's entering a finger in me, I yelp loudly, arching myself as much as I can.

When he starts entering another finger, I hear the front door open, and Jace's magical fingers are forgotten. I shove Jace off of me and jump off the couch yelling: "_Food_!"

I know, I know. What's wrong with me? But come on! It's Taki's! To make a fair comparison, it's like you're watching Hercules and suddenly, Dwayne Johnson knocks at your door. Of course you'll forget the movie and go with The Rock! Well, it's the same here. Sure I am a little frustrated, but the food will prevail. And I'll have a mouth-gasm, so I guess it's okay.

As I rush to Jon, he raises an eyebrow at me, and I find myself internally checking if I'm decent once again. Jon points out my chest with his eyes, and I bow my head only to see that my bra is showing. Well, at least it's just my bra. I quickly pull up my dress as Jon says, "Guess who I ran into at Taki's?"

"Jessica Alba?" I innocently ask.

Jon, like 99.99% of the men of this planet, has a thing for Jessica Alba. And I totally get it. She's _hot_! Even _I_ have a thing for her! Jon puts the food on the table and I take plates out of the cupboard as he says, "I wish. It was Jordan."

At that, I beam. Jordan is back from his family vacation! This is just perfect. I missed him _so much_.I cannot stress that enough. I just want him to be here with me now! We have so much catching up to do. Because no matter the fact that Jon is my everything, there are things that only Jordan can do. Because he's _my_ Jordan, and I'm _his_ Clary.

.

~.o.O.o.~

.

."

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

**.**

**And tadaaaaaaa, Jordan finally arrives. Or sort of. What do you think? what do you think will happen next? What happened to Jace out of nowhere? Who knows ? I do :-P**

**So, I know, I've been a bit out of it lately, but yeah, that's life with ups and downs. So I'll take someone's wise advise and take a small break, only to come back in better shape. Don't hate me. I'll come back in a year or two (kiark kiark, just kidding)**

**Oh, and I also started this NaNoWriMo contest, so if you want to check it out, or just talk about it, I'm here.**

**Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments franchise, and thank you for my beta, IWriteNaked for correcting my mistakes and making the story more fluent for you guys. And yeah, go check her stories as in NOW!**

**Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang**


	7. Is This Doctor Pixie & Mister Devil?

**So to know why there has been a delay in the updates, go check on my profile.**

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Is she being serious? Did she just leave me hanging for _food_?! Doesn't she have any sense of priorities? Sex comes _before_ food! Everyone knows that. Everyone but Little Miss I-Give-Blue-Balls! Where did Jon find that thing? How can he even put up with her? How can anyone put up with someone who puts food _before_ sex?! I still can't believe she blew me off for food! It's just unreal.

I better leave this madhouse before that Devil of a 'woman' proposes something crazy once again. As I open the front door, I find myself facing some dude with a bright smile, who was apparently ready to ring. He looks at me with surprise and checks the number of the house before he asks, "Is Clary home?"

"Who are you?" I rudely question. Seriously, this girl has more visits than than a Church on a Sunday. And I doubt that guys come here for absolution. The guy looks at me as if I just asked a stupid question, and then he simply says, "Her partner."

That girl _is_ the Devil. Who fucks around with two other guys when they already have a boyfriend? I'm about to say something smart, something that includes Jon and that weird triangle that I see forming at the horizon, but the Devil's voice echoes behind me and cuts me as she says, "Jace don't you wanna—" She doesn't finish her sentence. At the very second I turn my head to watch her, Pixie runs into the guy's arms all the while squeaking, "_Jordan_!"

"Missed me, Angel?" He asks, wrapping his strong arms around her petite figure, and she clings tighter to him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

"You have no idea!" She merrily answers. "I feel completely rusty. Let me just change."

"A dress is fine. I feel like peeling you off." He tells her, wiggling his eyebrows, and I feel like puking. What's up with all this mushy cheesiness? Yuck. Please, someone shoot me.

Pixie squeals and gets out of his arms, taking his hand and leading him inside. I use the opportunity to flee this madhouse. And I thought my family was deranged… it's nothing compared to the craziness going through Pixie's mind.

Once I'm back in Valentine's house, I go straight to my room, and slump on the bed, looking at the ceiling. I need to evacuate. I _really_ do. And I can't just have sex because fucking school is not for another fucking month and two weeks. And I know no one here! I can still ask Jon for STD girl's number, but something tells me that if Pixie said no, Jon will say no. Such a victim.

I can't run because I don't know this freaking town, and I don't want to get lost like a fucking child asking for direction. I can't do anything here! I would have been better off at the orphanage. At least there I'd have some action or something. I have nothing to do here. Nothing but stare blankly at the stupid ceiling.

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**~.o.O.o.~**

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It's the middle of the night and shocker, I can't sleep. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that every time I close my eyes I see my father's demented expression. I look at the time and see that it's four in the morning. Two more hours before I can respectably get up and pretend that I slept. Last time I acted like that, I managed to stay awake for eight days. So, maybe I'll do the same this time.

I stare at the blank ceiling when, suddenly, I hear a noise coming from downstairs. I strain my ear a little before I decide to go and check it out. As I go downstairs, I notice that there's lights coming from the living room, but once I get in, I see Pixie watching the TV. I'm only half surprise to see her there. I mean, I knew she was sleeping over, but still, it's _four in the morning_.

Pixie turns her head to me before swiftly refocusing her attention on the screen, but it's too late. I saw it. I slowly walk to go sit next to her, my eyes glued on her face, but she refuses to acknowledge me. Her eyes remain fixed on the TV screen. I'm about to ask her what's wrong when she cuts me off with, "I don't want to talk about it!"

Well, at least it's clear. She energetically rubs her nose, her eyes never leaving the screen and so I look at what she's pretending to watch with so much attention. And this girl is completely _nuts_! Who watches medical surgeries in the middle of the night? I mean, it's already gross and creepy enough in broad day light, but now… It's like she wants to live the movie Halloween or something. The doctor takes a disgusting black thing out of the poor guy on the table. It seems to come out from a horror movie, and the voice over explains how the doctor just removed a tumor from his patient.

I grimace and ask, "Can't you zap to something more _cheerful_? The Teletubbies, maybe."

Pixie blinks a little and shakes her head as if she had been lost in her thoughts. Then she gives me the remote, and I quickly change this morbid channel. That girl is weird, I'm telling you. I flip through the channels, desperate to find something less depressing than surgeons cutting people open, and I finally settle on a musical channel.

"So, you can't sleep?" I ask. I don't know why, but her silence creeps me out. I mean, ever since I met Pixie, she's been anything but silent, and now it's freaking creepy. That, and the fact that she cried, even though she doesn't want to talk about it.

"I never sleep around this period. I know, it's stupid, but I can't. No matter how much I try to exhaust myself, I can't," she says in a low murmur, as if she's talking to her knees who are against her chest.

I turn my head to her and frown as I ask, "What do you mean 'around this period'?"

"Why can't _you_ sleep?" She questions. I hate when people do that, but it's true that I do it all the time. I don't answer right away, and so she just shrugs, her eyes fixed on the TV. I swear she hasn't looked okay from the screen ever since I came in. She's turning into a freaking TV zombie. Apocalypse is near.

I lay back against the couch, and without knowing what takes over me, I confess to her: "Because unlike you, I've nothing to exhaust myself."

"Yeah. Sometimes I wish we were just robots. We would just have a turn off button, and _poof_, all our problems would go away."

I nod, completely agreeing with her. _Poof_. No more past. _Poof_. No more feelings. _Poof_. No more me. If only it was that simple. I look at Pixie's silhouette, and now I see a different person than that crazy Devil I saw for the past couple of days. She seems almost… fragile. It's like she is Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde, but with her own version. Like she is that super fun outgoing crazy girl during the day, and then just an empty shell during the night.

Suddenly a voice startles me, but Pixie still doesn't look away from the TV screen. Freaking zombie.

"Clary?" Jon says, with worry and concern in his voice. He walks to the couch and crouches next to her, quickly glancing over at me. Then he looks at the TV and frowns before returning his attention to Pixie, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "Clary, you shouldn't stay up all night."

Pixie finally blinks away from the screen and looks at Jon. He smiles at her with kindness and tells her, "They'll be here soon. But we can still call her to come earlier if you want."

Pixie shakes her head no, and Jon takes her in his arms like a child before taking her back upstairs, glancing once again at me as he leaves the living room. I stay alone to face the _Graveyard Dolls_ new video clip, and I do my best not to think of what just happened. I have enough problems on my own, and she said she doesn't want to talk about it, so I should just let it be.

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**~.o.O.o.~**

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"Hey, wanna come somewhere with me?" Pixie cheerfully asks me.

It's been three days since her creepy-staring-mode-during-night thing and if I hadn't seen her like that, I would never had known. She's good at pretending that she's alright, but I can't do it. She smiles and she laughs and she talks normally. I don't think anyone but Jon knows about her nights in front of the TV, watching surgeons butcher their patients.

Valentine is completely blind to her act, but he's a parent. Parents are blind when they want to be. Still, I noticed that he made sure Pixie stayed home every night, and he always cooks her tons of food— her favorite, apparently. There's also that Jordan guy who comes everyday, bright in the morning and stole Pixie all day long, only to give her back at night, all sweaty and out of breath. I mean, he could at least give her time to catch up her breath, I don't know… there's an adult in the house!

Of course, Pixie being Pixie/the Devil, didn't stop pranking me. But she's more subtle. Especially since Valentine and Jon are both very eloquent on us stopping this 'war'. So, she only does things she knows they won't notice like stuffing my shoes to make me things I've grown two size or putting food coloring in my toothpaste. But the worst of them all, the blasphemy that she dared to do was to replace the White of the Oreos with actual white toothpaste! Who does that? Except the Devil? So of course I put grape Kool' Aid in her conditioner. And now she's purple instead of red. But I kinda like it. She really looks like a Pixie from a cartoon now.

So, back to now and present purple Pixie. I look at her and raise one eyebrow, because I know it gets on her nerves, and I wait for her to go on. "Well, come then."

"It's freaking 9pm. Are you even allowed to go out at such a time?" I ask with a mocking smirk.

Pixie rolls her eyes and makes a very unladylike gesture before she innocently say, "You're right. I should ask Santa Clause for permission." I chuckle at that and then she takes my hand to make me get up. "Move your fat lazy ass and follow me."

"What about Jon?" I inquire, knowing that he's in the shower. I swear this guy is a girl. He's _always_ in the shower.

"Are you in love with Jon or something? There's something I want to show _you_."

I nod and walk to the front door with her. Just when she's about to close the door, she yells, "I'm showing Jace the Zone ! We'll be back in a couple hours!"

I look at her, expecting her to elaborate her plans but she just shakes her head and walks us toward the centre of the town. She half dances, half bounds on the way, humming a song that I heard a couple of days ago, and after fifteen minutes of walking, she stops in front of a music studio. She takes a key out of her pockets and unlock the door, signaling me to follow her. I look at the instruments and the table of mix cd's, but Pixie shakes her head and leads us to the hidden stairs. We climb them, and once on the first floor, I see a sports room. You know, the kind of sports room that only exists in the movies with all the right kind of equipments.

"I figured you could use some of the exhaustion they promise," Pixie says, pointing to the equipment with her chin.

"How—"

"My stepfather uses this place. If you want to come and I'm not around, just tell Robert, the guard, that you know me. And for the record, my name is Clary to them, not Pixie."

I blink at her, mostly because I always forget that her name isn't Pixie. I'm just so used on calling her that. She chuckles and says, "I like Pixie, don't worry. As long as you're the only one calling me that, it's okay." Then she looks back at the room and wiggles her eyebrows at me. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go crazy, I'm sure they won't mind. I'm going to call Jon and calm his stupid worried ass."

And with those words, she goes back, still half bounding. As soon as I'm alone, I close my eyes and smile. _This_ is what I have been looking for. It's just perfect, and not so far from home. Without hesitation, I rush to the alters, but as I lay on the chair, I realize that I'm not wearing the proper clothes. I grunt, and let my head rest back on the chair as my hands hang in the air, my forearms resting against the bar of the alters. I just have to wait until tomorrow, and then I'll be able to let it all out.

Suddenly, I feel someone standing next to me, and I open my eyes only to see a Pixie smirking down at me.

"You know, even _I_ can lift those tiny weights," she mocks and I roll my eyes at her. This is something I've done a lot since I met her: rolling my eyes. One day they'll fall off because she would have make me roll them one too many time.

"You know, your position is very sexual, right now."

"But then again, when aren't I sexual?" I ask with a smirk, all the while trying to ignore the very sexual tone that she used.

"Probably when you poop. And also when you scream like a girl because the Oreos aren't to your liking."

"That was plain evil. You should go to jail for that crime," I say truthfully, repressing a shiver at the memory of the bomb-Oreo.

Pixie laughs her lungs out, and then, out of nowhere, she sits on my laps. I raise an eyebrow at her, and her smile, which was devilish earlier, turns into something luxurious. She lets her fingers play with my abs through my shirt, but her eyes never leave mines.

"If you don't want to train, I can show you another kind of exercise."

She starts grinding on me, and of course, it's at that precise moment that I realize that she's wearing a dress. I mean, I should have known, she's been wearing dresses everyday to go see her Jordan because he wants to 'peel her off'. And her dresses aren't the ones that don't allow her any movement. On the contrary, they have really wide skirts, and I'm sure anyone could get rid of them in less than a second.

So of course, when Pixie starts grinding on me, her fingers still playing with my abs, that idiot down there reacts. I'm a guy, what did you expect? Pixie seems to feel him, because she smiles even wider and leans so she is below the bar, against my whole chest, pecking my neck with her fucking sensual lips

I breath in deeply, gritting my teeth and looking everywhere but Pixie. I don't know why, but I don't feel good about this. Maybe because I haven't been laid in a while. Still, I clear my throat and say, "If you feel horny, go and see Jon."

"Jon's not the one turning me on, right now. Besides, he doesn't have your magical fingers," Pixie murmurs, grinding a little bit more against my crotch and inevitably making me harder.

"Are you saying that I'm a better fuck than Jon?"

"How should I know? You haven't fucked me… yet," she says before she starts nibbling my collarbone. I swallow hard, still not sure of what to do, and so Pixie slowly sits up, removing the bar behind her, and she removes her dress in one swift motion. What did I say about less than a second. I stare at her while she stares at me, and then she says, "Come on, Jace. I'm not asking for a relationship, I'm just asking for a random hook-up. No strings attached. Besides, how long has it been since you fucked someone?"

"Too long," I concede.

Pixie leans back to me, her fingers playing with my belt as she grinds against me and she luxuriously whispers in my ear, "But then again, if you don't want to fuck me, I'll get it. Even though I'm fantasizing about how rough it can get with your muscles and your boa constrictor." And with those words, she nibbles my ear, making me growl and finally decide myself.

I've been hanging around decent people for far too long. I shouldn't question myself wether it's good or not. I shouldn't care that she has a boyfriend who comes to see her everyday, and a best friend completely in love with her. I should only care that she's a hot girl who wants to have sex with me. Who cares about the rest?

I strongly bring her face to mine to demandingly kiss her, and I can feel her smile against my lips, and with an expert hand, she undoes my belt and the buttons of my trousers. I sit up, still kissing her and look in my pockets if I am lucky enough, and _yes_. In one swift motion, I get rid of my trousers and then I unclasp her bra, releasing her breast to the air.

I don't really waste anytime in watching them. I take them in my mouth while on of my hands creeps to her core. And God, she's wet. I mean, it's good for her because I know that I'm not that easy to take in, but still, I play with her clit, just to make sure. And also because the way girls suck in the air when I do so is so exciting. Exactly like she just did.

She jerked her head backward, biting her lips and closing her eyes, all the while sucking in a deep breath. Such a freaking turn on. I keep on playing with her while she digs her nails in the skin of my shoulders, but I don't really mind. The rougher the girl is, the more I like it.

"_Fuck_!" she cries out, snapping her head back to me and hiding her head in the crook of my neck.

I smirk and decide to tease her a little "What's wrong, Pixie?"

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?" I playfully ask, pinching her clit a little bit harder as she is literally riding my hand.

"Stop _thaaat_!" she whimpers in my neck, but it's like she can't stop herself. Then she speaks in a with a voice hoarse with desire, "Take me! Take me _now_! I can't take it anymore!"

"What's the magic word?" I tease her, my fingers completely soaked by her juices.

"Stop fucking playing and fuck me already, or I'll kill you with a broccoli!"

_What_? God, I swear if I wasn't so turned on, I would have bursted out loud! What's that mood killer threat? A _broccoli_? Is she for real? I stop playing with her just to slide down my boxers and roll on the condom, and as soon as it is on, Pixie empales herself on me. We both grunt, and she stays still on me, obviously adjusting to my 'boa constrictor' as she calls it. After a few seconds, she pushes me so I'd lay back on the chair, and she starts to bounce on me, her eyes closed and her head tilted back, as if she's trying to feel it at the most.

For a few moments, I do nothing and just enjoy the view, but when her moans start to get on a higher pitch, I sit back up and grab her waist to make her come deeper and harder on me. She doesn't seem to mind. On the contrary, she even tightens her wall around me, and fuck, she's tight. She's just perfectly tight, not too tight, but tight enough.

She furiously grabs my hair and arches herself to me, and so I take the offered breast in my mouth as I feel a pressure building up in my lower stomach. She cusses, and I grip her waist tighter, which make her moan. I can feel that I'll soon finish, but before I can even think of making it last longer, I'm cuming in her as she's trembling on me. She thrusts a few more times, and then she falls limp against me.

I lay back against the chair, her purple head on my chest and I try to catch my breath. _God_, I missed sex. It's not like we just had the sex of our lives, but geez, I missed sex. I feel like tonight, I might just be able to sleep for an hour or two, which makes me smile. That would be awesome.

"I'm sorry." Pixie says out of nowhere, her head still on my chest, and her voice slightly hoarse from panting so much. God, how much I love the voice of a girl after sex. It's so sexy. "I took, but I didn't give anything."

I frown, not sure what she meant, and then she suddenly gets up and picks up her clothes, all the while saying, "Maybe next time you can't sleep, I'll find a way to repay my debt."

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**~.o.O.o.~**

**.**

**He he he. I'm sure you liked, you little pervs... Wait I wrote it, I'm the biggest perv here! And yeah, I assume, in theory ^^**

**So? What did you think of this chapter? Hope you liked it, don't forget to tell. **

**Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments franchise, and thank you for my beta, IWriteNaked for correcting my mistakes and making the story more fluent for you guys. And yeah, go check her stories as in NOW!**

**Kiss㈍9 Kiss㈍9, Bang㈝9 Bang㈝9**


	8. Shall We Dance?

"When is your Mom coming back, Clary?" Valentine asks with the sweet tone he always uses when he talks to Pixie. I swear, she might as well be his daughter. He knows everything about her, and by the way he looked at me when we came back, I'm sure he knows what happened in 'the Zone'.

Pixie seems out of it for a moment before she brightly answers,"Next Sunday."

Valentine and Jon glance at each other, and they silently exchange a piece of information before looking back at their plates. This doesn't go unnoticed by Pixie who narrows her eyes and suspiciously asks, "Why?"

"My Mom wants me to visit her earlier this year," Jon informs her before he adds. "Something about a fiancé or whatever."

"Oh." Even I can feel her disappointment. I don't know what they had planned, but Pixie was apparently building a lot of hopes on it. She looks back on her plate and she says with a neutral voice,"It's okay, Jon. I can stay on my own for a few more days. I'm a big girl."

"On your own? What about Jordan?"

"Maia is coming to town tomorrow night," she says with a grimace, and Jon grimaces back. Who the fuck is Maia? It seems that neither of them like her, just the way she snarled the girl's name is proof enough.

"Clary, you're always welcome here, even when Jon isn't here,"Valentine sweetly says, and Pixie brightly smiles to him. I don't know what their story is, but Pixie always smiles with her whole heart when Valentine tells her something. I'm sure he could tell her that he's about to kill her and she'd still brightly smile as if he gave her an early Christmas gift.

"I know that, Mister M."

Jon glances at me with a little too much attention if you ask me, and I pretend to be really interested in my vegetables. Can you believe this girl? One of her favourite dishes is a bunch of vegetables? What happened to the teenage junk food? She's weird.

When dinner is finished, I go in my room hoping that maybetonight I'll sleep, but of course, every time I close my eyes, I see his face with his demented eyes. I stay for an indefinite time like that, stupidly staring at the stupid ceiling, when I hear voices coming from next room. I frown because the next room is Jon's room, and then I get that it means Pixie is with him.

Of course she is. I don't why, but it bothers me a little. I mean, she's just been with me, what need does she have to go to himnow? I know how to please a girl just fine, and I know for a fact that she didn't fake it. That or she is the best actress of this fucking planet. I involuntarily clench my fists and try to focus on something else than their whispered murmurs when Jon explodes in a whisper, "Really, Clary!? What's wrong with staying here until your folks come back?"

"I can take care of myself, Jon. I do it for the rest of the year!" Pixie angrily replies, and I can almost see her cheeks getting slightly red with anger as she frowns and glares at Jon.

"I don't care about the rest of the year. I care about now. You better stay here, Clary! At least Jace is here and you can talk to him if you can't sleep."

"I'm not talking to _Jace_ about my insomnia!"

I don't know why, but I don't like the way she spat my name. It's like I'm a poison or something. I mean, I'm not that bad of person, am I? And anyway, what's wrong with Pixie? Why is Jon so worked up about leaving her? She's not a child anymore. He should know that better than anyone.

"I don't want you to keep staring at that screen, having those morbid thoughts!" Jon accuses her, and I, for one, cannot agree more. I mean, butcher-surgeons in the middle of the night? That's not my cup of tea, and it shouldn't be anyone's. Especially not a little girl's as sweet as Pixie.

"I told you Jon, I'll be okay," she says, and then they go silent again. I stay in my bed, blankly staring at this stupid ceiling that I've memorized now, and I wait for the hours to pass, like every night.

At some point, I hear shuffles coming from next room, and I get up to go downstairs because… yeah, I don't want to hear them have sex. It's that simple. Who wants to hear people have sex next room? No fucking one. I slump in the sofa and start zapping the channels to lose my mind in stupid programs when I hear a small noise behind me.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" I ask with a hint of sarcasm in my voice. I mean, the girl just had sex twice with two different guys, she should be more than exhausted. And that's without even counting that Jordan of hers with whom she probably fucked all day long, as usual.

"Shouldn't _you_?" She asks back, irritatingly. I'm sure she knows how much I hate when she answers my question with a question. She _has_ to.

"I got distracted," I simply say as she comes to sit next to me. As her eyes analyse what I was watching, she softly utters, "Yeah. I guess sleeping after sex means_ right after sex_."

"Then, why aren't you sleeping?" I ask again as I try to put as much mock as possible in my tone. It's not that I care that she slept with him—she's a grown girl, she does what she wants with her body—it's just that I care that she slept with him_ after me_.

Pixie chuckles, as if I just said something hilarious, and then she simply states, "I didn't have sex with Jon. I just sleep in his room because I always sleep in his room when I sleep here."

"Does Valentine knows that?"

"He pretends he doesn't, but he's not stupid. It's just like he pretends that you're okay, when he knows that you never sleep," Pixie softly utters, her eyes fixed on the screen. Freaking zombie is back. I blankly look at the screen too, some stupid french movie on, and I think of what Pixie just said.

I really need to improve my acting. Apparently the whole wide world knows about my sleepless nights, but the weird thing about it is that no one tries to make me talk about it. They just get along with me, and wait for the insomnia to pass. Well, good luck with that.

Suddenly, Pixie gets up and she sticks her hand out to me."Wanna dance?" I look at her, one eyebrow up just to irritate her, and she quirks her mouth on the side to create that lovely smile that she rarely has. She always smiles, but I've barely seen _this_ smile on her, full of innocence, expectation and glee.

I take her hand and get up as she places her hands behind my neck and starts swirling around to the music of the movie. _God_, she is really small! If I just look straight, I don't even see her. I can feel her chuckle against my chest before she tilts her head and says, "You're suppose to lead. It's a valse."

"I'm not a dancer, Pixie."

She smiles with malice before she takes my hands and places one on her smaller back and the other in her hand. "It's just like sex, let the flow come to you. Close your eyes and _feel_ the music."

I'm about to retort that she's no dance teacher, but she gives me a look and so I oblige. You know, that look that says, "Just do it already." I close my eyes, but all I can concentrate on is how complex this song must be to play on the piano. The notes fly like butterfly wings: not too fast, but fast enough to lose yourself to the music and, well, dance.

I don't really know if what we're doing is dancing because Pixie keeps on chuckling against my chest, but at least, we're twirling. When the song is over, I allow myself to chuckle with Pixie, and I fall back in the sofa, Pixie still in my arms.

"I love the soundtrack to this movie. It's so complex, so slow and vivid in the meantime. If I could, I'd spend my life dancing to this music," she softly murmurs against my chest, and I don't say anything back as she stays there, her purple head rising and falling to the rhythm of my breathing while we silently watch the end of the movie.

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

.

I don't know how, but I fell asleep with Pixie in my arms. I know that because I wake up in the sofa with Pixie snuggled in my arms, her head resting on my chest as she breathes her dreams out. I look down to watch her little purple pixie head, and despite myself, my lips slightly go upward. I mean, I _slept_. I don't know for how long, but for the first time since the carnage, I slept without a nightmare. I actually feel refreshed and relaxed.

I don't really dare moving because Pixie is still sleeping like a baby, and I know what it is to want to sleep so bad and not being able to. So, I stay still as I notice the closed door of the living-room, the drawn curtains and the black screen of the TV. I wonder who could have done all of that as I try to down my surprise. I've always been a light sleeper. I mean, a feather brushing the tiles of the roof could wake me up, so why didn't I wake up when that person came in the room? He even tucked us in with a light quilt! I must have been really tired.

Suddenly, Pixie gets up with a start and stares at me in disbelief, her green eyes still heavy with sleep. "What happened?" she asks, her voice hoarse with sleep, and I can't help but compare it with her after-sex voice. It's the same.

"Sleep," I simply state, and it seems to shock her even more than it shocked me.

Her eyes widen for a few seconds before she smiles of pure delight and says, "Sleep is good!"

"Tell me about it."

She looks at me with glee before jumping onto the floor and cursing when the doorbell rings. Pixie storms out of the room and I slowly follow, passing a tired hand in my hair. I grimace as the sun hits my face with too much brightness and I suddenly find myself facing Jon. His eyes narrows at me before flying to Pixie who's at the front door talking to that Jordan of hers.

I hold Jon's gaze until he looks away, and I go upstairs when I hear Pixie giggle at something that Jordan said in her ear. Once upstairs, I stay under the shower for what seems like forever, so happy that I finally slept, and when I'm clean and dried, I wander off to the library where there's this big ass piano.

Jon told me when I arrived that his father used to play for his church and that he was pretty damn good at it. But then Jon's mother fled away with the clerk, and I guess it did it for Valentine. See, passion once again destroyed it all.

I let my fingers fly on the black and white keys, remembering the time when I used to play just to make my mother smile, and in one sudden movement, I sit on the little bench and place myself in position to play. I think about it for a moment before taking my phone out and I search for a particular melody. I listen to it a couple of times before letting my fingers play with the keyboard.

The beginning of the theme is really easy. A few sparse notes here and there. But after the introduction, the tempo slowly increases and both of my hands have to be in simultaneous harmony to work this piece correctly. The tempo keeps increasing, the notes becoming more important and more numerous, and my right hand has to fly on the board to keep up, before the tempo decreases and goes back to the introduction, just a pitch higher. The notes timidly sing, slowly announcing another acceleration, and that's when I get too worked up and miss a note.

I growl and go back to the beginning, but every time I get to this part, I fail. It's not like the part is that hard, but I keep on failing, and it keeps on annoying me, forcing me to go back to the beginning, again and again.

At some point, Jon enters the room, his brows slightly furrowed as if he's concerned about my mental health (I mean, I did play for most of the day, and I never managed to get that part right), and then he says, "Maybe you should try downloading the score."

"I don't need a fucking score, I know the notes. It just doesn't feel right," I grumble, more to myself than to Jon.

He slowly walks to me and closes the piano before saying,"Come, I'll take your mind off those stupid notes."

I stare at him, not sure of what he meant, but he just shakes his head and signals me to follow him. I heave and get up, following Jon with as much reluctance as I can muster, especially when I see that he's walking us to Pixie's house. I mean, last time I went there, I ended up in a threesome. And I know she's in there with that Jordan guy or whatever. I don't want to finish in a foursome or something. Not that I don't like fucking her, but alone would be better.

Jon enters as if it is his own house, and then he goes to the basement. I stop dead in my tracks, refusing to go to this place of all vices. Jon turns his head to me and bursts out in laughters when he sees my face. Well, I guess I should be working on my 'unfazed face'.

"Don't worry, she's too obsessed by what she just came up with to ask something crazy like that again. Besides, Jordan is here."

"Your point?" I ask, my eyes narrowed at the descending stairs.

"She just wants to show us something, and she asked me to bring you along."

I hesitate, and Jon heaves before shrugging and walking down the last steps. Well, I guess I have to do the same or they'll both treat me like a pussy for the rest of my life. Once I'm on the last stairs, I see Jordan in the middle of the room while Pixie is standing in velvet red dress in a corner. I glance once again at all the mirrors, and once again only one question startles me:_who has mirrors plastered all over their wall_s? It's fucking freaky!

Jon sits on the stairs, and so I sit too, not really sure of what's wrong with Pixie and that Jordan guy, and suddenly a few notes on the guitar echo in the basement. Jordan moves his shoulders a little as a violin and a piano warm up, and I frown as I think I recognise the song. And I totally do know that song! It's freaking Roxane from the Moulin Rouge! (**A.N. Okay, for you to picture really accurately what's coming next, you have to listen to El Tango de Roxane, from the movie Moulin Rouge! The real version from the movie, not a cover. The bold will be for the lyrics."**)

I don't know if it's Jordan speaking, or the music, but the voice is damn strong as Pixie tilts her head up at the mention of a prostitute. She lustfully smiles to Jordan as a voice about how a man fell in love with a hooker. They both stamp their right foot to the floor as the first percussion comes in and the song starts.

**First, there is desire**

Jordan looks at Pixie with lust as she looks back at him with a false innocence, both of them circling but not touching, even though their right hands are up, inches away from one another.

**Then, passion**

Jordan picks Pixie by her smaller back and urgently brings her closer to him, his other hand gently stroking her face before slowly falling to her raised leg against his hip. Her dress winds up a little as she lets her head fall back, Jordan's face dangerously close to her neck.

**Then, suspicion**

Pixie looks at me and playfully winks, to which Jordan reacts by yanking her up, and forcing her to look at me as he glares toward me.

**Jealousy, anger, betrayal**

Pixie keeps glancing at me, and Jordan keeps making her twirl to make her stop, being more forceful at each twirl and at each word.

**When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. Without trust, there is no love.**

The tempo increases, and Pixie escapes from his arms, only to be taken back violently. Jordan takes her fragile little head between one of his hands, and she brings her hand to his face, but she still glances toward me.

**Jealousy, yes, jealousy. Will drive you…**

Jordan is now backing Pixie toward a corner with anger and fury before he makes her fall and twirl on himself screaming.

**Mad!**

Pixie is on her knees, Jordan's back facing her, and she slowly brings her hand to his shoulder as she gets up during those two seconds of silence that follow that madness. Then Jordan turns and takes Pixie in a tango position as he surprises me.

**Roxanne**.

_Fuck_! Was that _his_ voice? I swear that I thought he was just lip-singing. His voice is even deeper than the original's!

**You don't have to put on that red light**

**Walk the streets for money**

**You don't care if it's wrong of it is right**

They're both dancing a passionate tango, but their faces really transmit the song. Jordan seems desperately in love with her as Pixie only has lust written on her face.

**Roxanne**

**You don't have to wear that dress tonight**

Jordan grips the hem of Pixie's dress with frustration, and now I get why she's been wearing dresses everyday.

**Roxanne**

**You don't have to sell your body to the night**

Pixie leaves Jordan's arms and twirls on herself, making her dress catch the eyes as the skirt swirls, and suddenly, Jordan is behind her, his hands delicately over hers as they both have their arms strained.

**His eyes upon your face**

Pixie tilts a little her head to look at Jordan, no longer with lust but with love as a small candid smile appears on her lips.

**His hand upon you hand**

Jordan gently brings their arms to her stomach as he make them slowly turn on themselves, both on their tippy toes as they move to the small pinches of the violin cords.

**His lips caress your skin**

Pixie tilts her head a little more and Jordan kisses the skin of her collarbone, making her close her eyes and she mildly smiles. I notice at that moment that it's no longer Jordan who sings. Maybe because his voice is _way_ too fucking deep.

**It's more than I can stand**

Pixie swiftly, opens her eyes, and tries to walk away…

(**Roxanne) Why does my heart cry?**

But Jordan prevents her from doing so by grabbing her hand and yanking her back to him and he starts waltzing with her in a way more harmonious that this thing did yesterday night. Well, at least I know why she laughed so much yesterday night. If she was comparing me to Mr. Deep Voice over here, I was obviously a laugh.

**(Roxanne) Feelings I can't fight**

**You're free to leave me**

**But please don't deceive me**

**And please, believe me when I say**

**I love you**

Jordan makes Pixie twirl before taking her in his arms as if she is the most precious thing of this world. The guitar plays, and they both look at each other, each a hand on the other's face, and I can't help but see how in perfect symbiosis they are. I mean, I know they've been working their butt off to come to that, but it's more than their bodies moving in harmony, it's their freaking souls. And it's fucking weird, not to say slightly scary.

(**Roxanne) Why does my heart cry? (You don't have to put on that red light)**

Pixie just glanced at me once again as the bridge finished, and Jordan yanked her back to stop her. He picks her and makes them twirl as she's on his hipbone, making Pixie end up on her knee in his back.

(**Roxanne) Feelings I can't fight? (You don't have to wear that dress tonight)**

Pixie swiftly gets up and Jordan turns back to engage once again a passionate tango with her. There's so much anguish in his voice and on his face, which contrast with Pixie's lustful and sultry face.

**(Roxanne) You're free to leave me**

**But just don't deceive me**

**And please, believe me when I say**

**I love you**

Pixie twirls and ends up in Jordan's arms, her hands around his face with care as the violin transmits Jordan's anguish. He has a hand next to her face while the other is busy with the hem of her dress. They're both out of the breath as the stressing violin makes them tremble of emotions that are beyond them and finally, Jordan seems to snap.

**Roxanne! (Why does my heart cry?) You don't have to put on that red light**

Jordan backs Pixie in a corner, grabbing her hand with force and anger as Pixie finally shows something else than lust: fear.

**Roxanne! (Feelings I can't fight?) You don't have to wear that dress tonight**

Jordan keeps backing her up, and Pixie seems completely panicked as she tries to wraps her hands around his neck with pretend lust…

**Roxane! You don't have to put on that red light**

Jordan yanks her hands off of him, rage and desperation in his eyes as he keeps making her dance backwards, in rhythm with the violin.

**Roxanne! You don't have to wear that dress tonight**

**Roxanne!**

Pixie tries to 'walk' away, but Jordan forbids her and he grabs her hand to make her fall on her knees, falling with her to hover over Pixie at the final note.

The music finally stops, and Pixie lets herself fall, her back on the floor, Jordan doing the same next to her. They're both completely out of breath and have a satisfactory grin on their faces, but this grin suddenly washes off Jordan's face as he pales and looks at the stairs, something above Jon and I's heads.

"_Maia_."

I turn my head and see a girl standing on top of the stairs, glaring at Jordan and Pixie with as much hate as she can manage. She's kind of beautiful, she's obviously mixed and has big brown eyes, the same colour as her short brown hair. If only she wasn't looking so hateful right now.

"You know, if you want to screw her, you should just do it, instead of inviting the whole wide world to watch your foreplay,"she snarls, and Jordan gets up in a jiffy, straightening his clothes.

So _this_ is Maia, Jordan's girlfriend. And apparently she's Jordan's super jealous and possessive girlfriend. Jordan walks to her, forcing Jon and I to get up, as he justifies himself. "Maia, I already told you, we're just partners in _dance_. Nothing more."

"And if we wanted to fuck, we would have locked the door to keep undesirables out," Pixie says from the floor. She's looking at the ceiling, but I can see on her face that she's not happy about Maia being here. The way she holds her nose looks like Maia is a revolting stink that she wishes to wash away as soon as possible.

"See!" Maia shouts, pointing Pixie with her finger to prove her point. "I told you she was shady! First it's just dancing, and now she's in a fucking dress, practically fucking you in her basement! When are you going to open your eyes and realise that she's leading you on?!"

Before Jordan can say anything, Pixie retorts with force as she gets up, "When are you going to stop being such a paranoid little bitch?"

"You have no rights to talk to me like that!" Maia says with a gasp, and I disagree. I mean the girl did come to Pixie's house to accuse her of being a home-wrecker. And apparently Pixie thinks the same thing.

"Actually, I have every rights! You're in _my_ house, uninvited! I don't even know why I bother talking to you. I should call the cops for trespassing," she says, looking at her nails as if she couldn't be more bored. I have to say, I admire her calm. I know that I wouldn't have reacted so peacefully.

Jordan tries to make Maia leave, a scowl obvious on his brows, but Maia seems to want war. "You know, your Daddy issues are none of my concern. You can screw whoever you want, but you keep you hands off of my man."

"My Daddy issues?" Pixie repeats blankly and I see Jon looking at Maia with a warning look.

Jordan doesn't seem to appreciate his girlfriend latest statement, and he explodes, "Maia! Don't you da—" But Maia cuts him off, a satisfied grin on her face. Apparently she hit a sensible cord, and she knows it.

"_What_? Give me another reason for her to fuck whoever she wants if it's not to fill the absence of her dead father."

Jordan seems like he's about to slap her and then he yells,"Maia, shut the fuck up and get out!"

Pixie is blankly staring at the girl, without a single emotion onher face. It's like she froze or something. And suddenly, she hurls and storms in direction of Maia, ready to rip her head off. Jon and Jordan stop her, and in the blink of an eye, Pixie regains her composure. She breathes in deeply through her nose, her eyes teary, but not a single tear escapes them, and then she walks to Maia.

Maia backs away a little as Pixie gets to her level, and it's a bit ironic. I mean, Pixie is really small, and Maia is a head taller than her, but she's still afraid. Pixie glares at the brown girl, and then she angrily whispers to her, "Get the Hell out of my house."

"As you wish, _orphan_," Maia replies with an awful grin, and I see Pixie tense. Maia turns her heels and walks up the stairs. Once she's out of sight, Jordan walks to Pixie and takes her in his arms. He whispers something in her ear, and she shakes her head, tapping his chest.

I don't know what she's thinking because her back is facing me, but then she tells Jordan to go reassure his 'dragon' as she calls the Fury, and Jordan leaves. Jon starts walking to her, but she unknowingly stops him as she says, "Well, I'm gonna take a shower."

With those words, she also climbs up the stairs, and she leaves Jon and I alone. What the Hell just happened? What was that? I'm telling you, this is a madhouse!

"_Awesome_, that's fucking _awesome_!" Jon sarcastically says, and I slowly turn my head to him, wondering if he's losing it or something. He sees me staring, and so he explains himself,"I'm leaving tomorrow, and that fucking idiot had to rub her father's death in her face. It's not like she wasn't having a hard time about it already!"

"Stop parenting her like that. She's not a baby," I reply. I mean, if Pixie is anything, it's strong. She isn't stupid enough to dwell in her pain 24/7. She's not like me.

Jon stares at me in disbelief and asks me, "Why do you think she can't sleep at night?"

"That's not a reason to hover over her like that. Let her feel what she wants to feel."

Jon emotionlessly chuckles as he walks to me and says, "She really did sell you this image of that strong girl that she is, didn't she? Let me tell you something, Jace. It's a lie. Clary isn't as strong as she seems, she isn't as carefree as she seems, and she isn't as confident as she seems. She's just broken, in ways you can't imagine, and she hides behind this strong figure that she created."

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

.

I'm laying awake, staring blankly at the ceiling as I try to avoid the thoughts of my past. I count the minutes passing by, hoping they will go by quicker, and when it's around two in the morning, I hear Pixie creeping out of Jon's room, and I get up to open the door as she passes by my room, and she stops in her tracks to stare at me. She doesn't seem surprise to see me, just slightly blinded by the light coming from my room.

"Wanna come in?" I ask out of nowhere. It's not like I planned to ask her in, but now that the idea is out, it seems like a good plan. She sheepishly smiles and enters my room, her eyes going everywhere as if she's looking for something.

"You should consider making this room less... IKEA-ish," she says as she shakes her head and sits on my bed Indian style.

I go lay next to her, taking in her overlarge Sex Pistols shirt and her… _nothing else_. I swiftly avert my eyes away from her and I look back at the ceiling as I simply declare, "I like it like this."

"Why?"

"Because it reflects how I want to feel."

Pixie looks around once again before she lets her back fall next to me and then she tells me, "The day you feel like that, will be the day you'll lose yourself."

"Maybe that's what I want."

"Well in that case, you're stupid. But then again, you're blond, so…" She playfully trails off and I sit up to glare at her the same way.

"Take that back!"

"Or what? I mean, the myth is true, you and Jon are both blond, and you're both stupid," she says sitting up, and somehow, it annoys me that she brought Jon into the conversation. It's like his name is glued to her lips or something.

"Says the girl who's oblivious as fuck," I snarl, and Pixie raises her eyebrows up, her playful grin still lingering on her pink lips.

"About Jon loving me? Yeah, right. If I were a dude, or him a chick, people wouldn't even dare make this assumption. It's pretty cliché, you know."

"What's cliché is that you think there's nothing between you two when there obviously is. Didn't you see his face when we came out of the living room this morning? And if he finds you here, how do you think he is going to react?"

"Jonathan's are meant to be shrinks or something," she heaves, letting herself fall back on the bed, and I can't help but notice that as she does so, her shirt winds up a little. Then she says in a whisper, lYou don't know us, and you don't know me. I know exactly what he thought this morning, and I know exactly what—actually, it's _none of your business_!"

She's right. Why did I even begin this conversation when I said that I wouldn't intervene in their little drama? I also heave and I let myself fall back next to her. We stay silent for a while, both looking at the ceiling, and suddenly I blurt out, "I'm sorry."

"Uh?"

"I have judged you a lot since I came here when I have no reasons to. It was just easier to judge than to…"

"To think of your problems. It's okay, Jace. Judging is what makes us human. And acknowledging that we fucked up is what makes us divine."

I laugh at the seriousness of her tone, and she chuckles along with me before rolling to be on her stomach and looking at me. She stares at me for what seems forever, and then she playfully smiles as she says, "Since we're in this thing of being honest and stuff, I do think that you're very hot."

"I already knew that, Pixie."

"Unfortunately, you're also stupid. The perfect man doesn't exist, after all," she says with a sad sigh. I grab her waist and make her flop so her back is back on the mattress while I'm on top of her.

"Take that back."

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she challenges me, so I trail my fingers to her sides and tickle her. She squirms all over the place, trying to escape me all the while silently bursting in laughter. It's so funny to see her laughing like that. It's like someone just muted her. She keeps laughing until the glee in her eyes turns into something else. I abruptly stop tickling her and make her sit up as I see that she's looking for oxygen, but that she can't find it.

I smack her back and she inhales deeply, like a drowned person inhaling life. When she finally catches her breath, she smiles at me and says, "Like I said, stupid, stupid. You almost killed me with your stupidity."

"That was really scary. How was I going to explain your half naked corpse in my bed?"

She shrugs and says, "You could have just said that you fucked me to death."

"You wish."

"Maybe." She wiggles her eyebrows at me, and lustfully lays on the bed. But even though she's looking at me with sultry eyes, I know that she doesn't really mean it. So I slowly hover over her, and trail my hands on her sides, all the way down to her thighs, making her uncontrollably buck her hips to me. I smirk at her and at the last second I roll on the side and switch off the lights.

"Like I said, stupid, stupid," she whispers in the dark, and I chuckle as I take my nightly position to stare at the ceiling.

.

**~.o.O.o.~**

.

I, once again, wake up after a night of dreamless sleep, and once again Pixie is next to me. She's actually snuggled in my arms, me spooning over her and covering her minuscule body with mine. She's tightly wrapped against me, her overlarge shirt completely useless for it is wound up all the way up to her breast, and my arm is strongly enveloping her waist. I frown, seeing how her milky skin clashes with my golden skin tone, and that's when the Devil decides to move in her sleep.

She doesn't move per say, she squirms, so her ass rubs my morning boner, making me harder than expected. I stay for a moment like that, pondering if I should get up or wait for her to wake up for us to take care of my uninvited guest. But before I can decide anything, someone knocks on my door and enters without waiting for an answer.

**~.o.O.o.~**

**.**

**I know, I know, it's been a long time, but life you know... Anyway. Who's at the door? What's going to happen next? What about Jon? **

**So? What did you think of this chapter? Hope you liked it. Did you like the little dance between Jordan and Clary? **

**Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments franchise, and the lyrics of the song are belong to the Moulin Rouge! And thank you for my beta, IWriteNaked for correcting my mist****akes and making the story more fluent for you guys. And yeah, go check her stories as in NOW!**

**Kiss㈍9 Kiss㈍9, Bang㈝9 Bang㈝9**


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